A Prince's Disgrace
by Neocolai
Summary: Never had there been a worse birthday. No Slash.
1. Forgotten

It was his birthday today, and he was alone.

Kili sighed dismally and set his half empty tankard aside upon the battered oak table. Not even ale could cheer him this night. For the first time he had no one but himself to celebrate, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Mother had offered a small celebration for the two of them, of course, just as she had in the years before. By the third birthday in a row with no recognition from his brother nor Uncle, however - not until D_i_s coldly reminded them that they had missed a significant day - Kili had endured enough. The awkward conversations over supper, Mother's anxious fretting, and the shouting matches between her and Thorin the next day, followed soon by Fili practically falling over himself trying to apologize; it all began to wear on him until he almost wished he _had_ no birthday that year.

This time, all Kili wanted was a quiet moment to himself. No supper held late should Thorin and Fili chance to arrive after all, no fretful glances from his Mother as evening drew near, and no vague hints of sympathy when he was disappointed once more. He did not mean to sulk over the matter - such an attitude was hardly befitting a prince, as Thorin would say - but for once Kili thought he deserved a chance to brood. It was his birthday, after all, and he had been neglected for the third year in a row.

It was not Fili's fault, nor Thorin's; he was quick to absolve their blame. The forges were a brutal task and all too often traders were as stubborn as the iron they demanded. Toil frequently carried late into the morning hours and one day drifted endlessly into another. It was only natural that one small occaion should be forgotten.

Still, it hurt more than Kili wanted to admit; to be alone.

An empty tankard slammed against the table close by, followed by the uproarous cheers of three trappers. If their boistrous shouts were any indication, they had either made a tidy fortune or they had a story rivetting enough to supply them with a generous number of rounds. Kili snorted in aversion and took another swallow of his own drink, determining to escape the din as soon as he was finished.

He must have made some significant indication of his contempt, as one of the trappers paused in his laughter and regarded the Dwarf shrewdly before taking a casual sip of his ale, watching over the brim of his tankard. He turned and elbowed his companion, whispering something which caused the mirth about the table to cease.

The baited silence was tangible and Kili immediately sensed that something had taken place. The few scattered customers were watching him intently, their eyes flickering every so often to the trappers who regarded him with singular gazes of belligerence, derision and cool contempt. Immediately Kili felt self-conscious, uncomfortable with the sudden attention rivetted on him. He scooted his tankard away and laid a few coins on the table before rising, no longer desiring the delusional comforts of the drink. Some inner intuition warned him to walk out now, while he had the chance, and Kili had no desire to incite trouble.

"Well now, so the high and mighty ... _Prince of Erabor_ has decided us unfit of his presence." The belligerent trapper, a large, balding man who reeked of alchohol and swayed on his feet, laughed uproarously at his own words. "Bow to him as he leaves, youngen's; we have insulted royalty!"

Kili immedietly faltered in his steps. These Men knew nothing of his heritage, being mere travellers as they were, and yet the insult bore truth and it cut deeper than a blade. Against his own caution he whirled on his heel, his eyes flaring with injustice as one hand clenched into a fist at his side.

'Belligerent' only threw his head back and guaffed at the Dwarf's reaction, and 'Derision' chose that moment to join in. "Nay, hold your tongue, Neilan. This is no mere Dwarf - tis surely Thorin Oakenshield, the Coward Under the Mountain!" He would have said more had he not been overcome by his own chagrin.

Mocking laughter rang about him, and Kili wanted to shut his ears against the sound. His jaw was clenched and he trembled with pent up rage, desiring nothing more than to shatter the teeth of the scoffers. He might have ignored the offense directed against himself, but the insult to his kin and his King would not be tolerated.

'Contempt', the youngest and the only one who had not yet taken part in the criticism, continued to regard the Dwarf thoughtfully, his motives indiscernable. He drained his tankard and set it firmly on the table, rising smoothly to his feet and waiting for the laughter to die away.

"Yelon," he said calmly, "Do not be hasty with your words. You do not recognize whom you taunt."

Dissatisfied murmurs filled the room and the trapper's companions glared at him, despising the termination of their sport. 'Contempt' merely leaned back comfortably, hands sunk into his pockets in a relaxed stance, and smiled compassionately at Kili.

"You should not be so cruel to the half breed," he said kindly, his eyes dancing with ridicule. "Do you not realize that this one maintains the bearing of regality? It is a matter of pride to be descended of the Fair Elves ... Even if you can see that their womenfolk prove to have less _defining_ features when their heritage is mingled with a lesser, contemptible race as the Dwarven _dogs_."

In the space of thirty seconds that it took for 'Contempt's' fellow travelers to recognize the compilation of insults strung into his words, Kili had launched himself upon the trapper with an inarticulate yell. The fury of his attack caught the Man off guard and threw him off his feet, Kili's fists slamming into his face with equal force as if he had been pounding an anvil at the forge.

Instantly the inn was in an uproar. Several onlookers shouted encouragement, others called for bets. One Man attempted to break up the fight, only to be shoved away by Yelon before the trapper and his friend dragged Kili away from their third companion. 'Contempt' scrambled to his feet and angrily blew his short, dark hair out of his eyes, wiping blood from his nose before driving his fist into Kili's jaw.

Immediately fights broke out among all who had gathered. One or two brawls concerned whether it was fair for three Men to gang up against one Dwarf, but most were to be blamed for drunken reasoning sparking tempers, while others still were purely for the sake of a fight. None of these distractions held any importance to Kili, who wrenched free of Yelon and Neilan's grasp and ducked under 'Contempt's' next blow, bowling into the Man's stomach and leaving him gasping for breath.

Not one to test his good fortune a second time, Kili slipped through the enraged throng, eluding inarticulate punches and ducking under a table at one point when a blacksmith tossed another merchant several feet through the air. The innkeeper was shouting for order, his bellowing unheeded in the pandemonium as Kili dodged past him into the liberty of the open air.

Free at last of the dingy, claustraphobic tavern, Kili took a deep sigh of the crisp, moist breeze and welcomed the dreary landscape and pouring rain that rapidly soaked through his coat and washed the blood from his split lip. Trudging through puddles murky from horse hooves and the tramping of hundreds of feet, he kicked a stone out of his path and watched in dulled interest as it pattered across the sludged road. Hunching deeper into his coat and shuddering as a chill began to set in, Kili set off towards home with slow footsteps and an equally heavy heart.

It was certainly a lousy birthday to top all the rest. He should have stayed home and read a book if nothing else; at least then he would have been warm and dry, his dignity intact and his stomach not churning as though his pride and heritage had been dragged through the dust.

The least he could have done was rearrange a few more of the trapper's teeth. It would have been little more than the tyrant deserved, and then Kili could have walked back with his head held high and his heart thrilled for the satisfaction of defending his kin. Thorin might even have had words of praise for his efforts, and it would have been worth a black eye and a bloody nose for that alone.

Visions of the remifying the past were only dreams slipping through his fingers, however, and Kili sighed in dejection and wrapped his coat tighter around his shoulders. He wished he had had the foresight to bring a hood. The rain had plastered his hair about his face and neck, water now trickling in streams under his collar, and he was beginning to shiver.

He was too caught up in his misery to hear footsteps sloshing through the mud behind him. Suddenly the bludgeoning end of a staff sent him careening onto his face, mud filling his vision as sardonic laughter resounded. Shouting in surprise and fury Kili pounded a fist into the mire, not caring about the droplets that splattered against him. He lurched to his feet to confront his attackers, swiping grime from his eyes with an equally filthy sleeve and glowering with all the hatred he could muster as the three trappers he had encountered before stared down at him.

"My apologies, your royal _highness..._" 'Contempt' said thickly, leaning heavily on the top of his rugged oak staff, his tongue darting out to tentatively feel the raw space where Kili had knocked out a tooth, "...Figuratively speaking, that is, considering we have the vertical advantage here..."

His voice held no humor, though his companions snickered. His eyes were cold and unforgiving, an inpenetrable shield of bronze which sought to pierce through the Dwarf which trembled in rage before him.

"We have unfinished business."

Kili did not wait for such "business" to be explained. Even had his pride allowed it he could not have escaped by speed alone, for although Dwarves were natural sprinters the terrain was poor and trappers had the advantage of endurance. They would catch up to him eventually, when he was too exhausted to put up a fight. Kili knew he would rather be defeated in battle when all odds spoke against him than to be cut down as a coward. He therefore threw himself forward without hesitation, not at 'Contempt' but the trapper standing beside him.

Not anticipating a 'rabid Dwarf' to attack so suddenly, Neilan only had a spare second for his eyes to widen comically behind bushy eyebrows before Kili slammed his shoulder into his gut, a startled 'oof!' his only capable sound of protest before he was wallowing back in the mud and cradling his stomach.

Yelon snatched for the Dwarf next, his hands clawing empty air as Kili ducked under his grasp and bowled into 'Contempt.' Both sprawled in the mud, resembling furless racoons with masks of sludge as they scrabbled for better footing. Neilan recovered just as Yelon lunged for Kili once more, the two sliding into one another and falling in an ungraceful tangle in the swiftly deteriorating road.

'Contempt' howled as Kili's boot caught his second front tooth and chipped the edge, his nose spurting blood as the Dwarf's foot glanced off and broke the cartiledge. He grappled for Kili's ankle and grabbed hold, squeezing his eyes shut as Kili floundered and splashed. Neilan was thrown off an irritated Yelon and he landed indignantly on top of Kili, whose free leg launched out and clipped 'Contempt's' temple, causing him to flinch away and curl into himself to protect his skull.

Neilan rolled away with a groan and Kili sloshed to his feet to break for freedom, only to yelp and choke on a mouthful of slush as Yelon leapt atop of him and ground his face into the mud. He struggled uselessly against the weight, even striving to bite his captors after Neilan grabbed his wrists and effectively pinned him.

"Hold 'im still," 'Contempt' muttered around his swollen jaw, brushing a finger against his bruising cheek and seething when it came away stained with blood. He wiped his hand agitatedly against his pant leg and slammed his boot into Kili's ribs, grimacing a smile when the Dwarf grunted, his face twisted in pain.

Kneeling beside the fallen Dwarf, 'Contempt positioned his staff across Kili's shoulders and flipped a dull bladed knife from his boot. Kili's eyes widened instantly and he whipped his head back, striking Neilan on the chin. The _clack_ of the Man's jaw was echoed by a yowl of pain as he bit down hard on his own tongue, and with a foul oath the trapper backhanded his adversary.

"Impudent whelp!" he spat, the insult by far the tamest he had offered the Dwarf.

'Contempt' stayed his hand before he could cause further damage, and with a glower of malevolence Neilan readjusted his hold on Kili's wrists, tightening his grip until the Dwarf's fingers turned white. Kili winced in pain as the pressure involuntarily curled his hands into fists, the defiance in his eyes undiminished as his gaze seared into that of the youngest trapper.

"Hope you don't mind me borrowing some of this, _Princess_," 'Contempt' snorted, hiding a sense of wary uncertainty under a wry grin. He grabbed a handful of Kili's tangled hair and placed his knife close to the scalp, sawing dark strands away with deliberate tarrying.

Instantly Kili's thrashing grew wild, promises of vengeance and curses upon Mankind spewing from his mouth in fluent Khuzdul. 'Contempt's' mouth was set in a grim line, his eyes betraying neither the satisfaction nor hesitancy coursing through him as he grasped a second handful of the Dwarf's long hair and sheared it away.

The young man would not admit to the dread that flooded him for an instant as murderous coal black eyes locked on his own, and he disguised his apprehension under a renewed sense of purpose as he grasped the Dwarf's hand and deftly bound each wrist to the opposite end of his oaken staff using the torn strands of hair.

His objective was to humiliate the proud and haughty Dwarven race; to prove that they were little more than the "Warmongers of Men" they chose to despise. To cut the hair of a Dwarf was among the lowest forms of disgrace, and the thrill of his hideous scheme encompassed the terror he should have felt regarding the future wrath of the Dwarf's kin. He was young, however, and he was a fool. His attrocities were little more than a game to himself and his older cousins, and neither conscience nor fear could have forced him to back down at this point.

Kili squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as the dulled knife tore through his hair, fighting back tears of shame as he wondered what Thorin would say of him now. Surely he would voice his disappointment, for no sister's son of his should have allowed himself to be humiliated in such a deplorable manner.

The instant his wrists were securely bound, stretched out on either side of him by the rough ends of 'Contempt's' staff, Neilan and Yelon leapt to their feet with crows of laughter, jeering at his helpless state as 'Contempt' grabbed a handful of Kili's hair and ground his face deeper into the mud.

Suddenly the blows were everywhere, and he could do nothing to evade them. The heel of one boot stamped into his lower back, and before Kili could utter a gasp another rammed into his forehead, stars cascading before his eyes even as a third blow dug into his ribs.

Mud clogged his nostrils and flooded his mouth, panic overwhelming him as a second smashing hit to the ribs drove any remaining air from his lungs. He could not breath! Kili writhed like a trapped animal against the restraints, fearful for a moment that he would die then and there, his Uncle and brother to attend his funeral with mixed pity and derision; for what kind of warrior would drown in a puddle of rainwater in a conflict against three mere humans?

With a snide remark to his companions, 'Contempt' abruptly released the Dwarf and rose to his feet. Choking and gasping, Kili wrenched his face clear of the murky water and vomitted, his breath coming in harsh sobs as he greedily sucked in deep lunguls of air despite the knives of agony piercing his torso.

Abruptly he was flipped onto his back, 'Contempt's' chilling leer filling him with dread as the trapper knelt beside him and whispered,

"When you return to your family, Dwarf - if they will take back such weak, pitiful scum as you - you tell them this: That it was I, Keilan son of Droad, who was your bane."

With a sadistic grin the trapper straightened and wiped a hand across his face, flicking mud off of his fingers before lifting his foot high above the Dwarf.

In the instant before Keilan's boot slammed into his stomach and the world exploded in a mural of agony and screams he did not recognize as his own, Kili's blurred, fading vision latched onto the grey, overcast sky. He wondered that the dreary, darkened rains could appear so lovely and fitting upon this day.

Then he was consumed in a sea of anguish, and he welcomed gladly the arms of oblivion.

* * *

Darkness strove to conceal all beacons of hope in that bleak night, driving rains pounding into the landscape as clouds scorned the light of the full moon. In the sodden road a limp figure stirred, wheezing for air that refused to comply with bruised, starved lungs. Water lapped against his cheek, the small lake which surrounded him rising centimeter by centimeter as the night wore on. Coughing faintly, he turned his face away.

Rain showered his battered body like needles of ice, cold and stinging as it struck bruises and streaked blood from the gash on his cheek. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and imagined a warm fire and the comforts of home, and a single tear tracked a path across the grime on his face before it plopped dejectedly off the bridge of his nose.

It was his birthday today, and he was alone.

* * *

**The Muse and Mini-muse are dead set on tormenting the heirs of Durin (again). The Mini-muse wrote this part, and the Original Muse gets its turn next with a chapter of Fili!Angst!**

**I think this is the Muses' conspiration of revenge against the hamster-sized muse Hermit, whom they believe is stealing the attention of their readers with his cute little mini-fic The Un-Elegant Desolation of Smaug. Hermit seems to be oblivious to their evil threats.**

**Please remember to feed the voracious Muses before they decide to feed Hermit to a dragon.**


	2. Delayed

_Several hours previous..._

* * *

Leaping up the uneven stone path with a smile in his eyes and an ease to his gait that belayed the grey overcast, Fili breathed deeply of the sharp, cool air and sighed in content. He paused momentarily to exchange a polite greeting with Oin, confirming that yes, his Uncle fared well and he and his brother were not cursing him with too many grey hairs as of recent; that yes, the weather was dismal in spite of the distinct cheer that followed Fili like a ray of sunlight; and yes, his Mother was in excellent health and she looked forward to speaking with the healer when he could spare the time.

If Oin noticed Fili's constant fidgetting during the conversation he made no comment, ending the pleasantries with diplomatic abruptness and allowing the young Dwarf to be on his way. Fili almost ran up the jagged path as soon as he was freed, grinning in anticipation as he adjusted his grip on the bundle tucked under his arm.

It had taken him weeks to find the perfect bow that he thought would suit his brother. The cherry wood was smooth against his fingertips and the polished sheen glinted auburn in the light. The design itself was simple, with a series of grooves and symbols carved only into the handle, but the bow was sturdy and the balance was excellent. The crafter had been stubborn in his bargaining, adamantly refusing to consider any payment close to Fili's offer. In the end it was the buyer who had given in, and Fili considered it worth the steep price just to see Kili's reaction when he received it.

He had not forgotten his brother this time.

Two years of mortification had taught Fili well. Kili had never once reproached his broher for missing his birthday; that was Mother's job. Instead Kili had suffered the disappointment quietly, absorbing the pain and moving on. It was unlike him and that caused Fili some worry, for Kili expressed himself with more articulation than D_i_s and he was never one to contain his emotions. Fili knew that the silence could only be an indication of how hurt his brother was every time his birthday passed without acknowledgement, and he determined that this year would be different.

Fili chuckled grimly and rubbed his left ear, remembering the promise he had asked Mother to hold him to should he neglect Kili's birthday a third time. To his credit he _had _wakened with the full intent to spend the day with his brother, and he had planned a week before to get Kili that new bow he was eyeing ever since his own had been mysteriously snapped when Ori tried it out. Fili had already warned Thorin that he would be staying home from the forges for that very reason.

Somehow D_i_s had not been informed of his plans, however, as before Fili had a chance to fully awaken she was dragging him out of bed by his ear, hissing in a whispered shout that if he thought for one minute that she would allow him to forget his promise, then he would be spending the rest of his life mucking every stable in the village until he could not be discerned from his own pony.

Fili had not argued argue his innocence, prefering to remain on his Mother's good side when she was in this sort of mood, and he could barely hold back a chuckle over breakfast when D_i_s soundly lectured Thorin about the importance of his being home _on time_. It never ceased to amuse Fili and his brother how the famed Thorin Oakenshield could be as meek as a lamb in the presence of his fiery little sister.

Kili had slept in late that morning, craving every last remnant of his dreams as always, and neither D_is_ nor Fili had chosen to disturb him. Fili had kissed his Mother goodbye and hastened out the door while it was still dark, intent on reaching the market early and receiving a cheaper bargain in favor of the "first sale of the morning."

With Kili's present tucked firmly under his arm and a cheeky grin lighting up his face, Fili darted up the final steps and slammed the door open. It rebounded off the wall and rattled the windows, and the tremor sent a few of Thorin's books tumbling off the shelves. D_i_s did not flinch, accustomed as she was to her two raucous sons tearing the house apart, but her grip tightened on the rag she was using to wipe the mantel above the fireplace, and she cast a longsuffering glare in Fili's direction.

"Would it hurt to enter the house quietly every now and then?" she pleaded, shaking her head at the audacity of her boys.

"Sorry, Mother," Fili grinned sheepishly, unable to act properly contrite for his excitement. He paused a hasty moment in respect before changing the subject. "Where is Kili?"

D_i_s frowned slightly, wiping soot from the mantel in absent contemplation before tossing the rag back into a bucket of murky water. Fili winced and ran a hand over his face; D_i_s only resorted to terrorizing the entire household with her frenzied 'spring cleaning' when she was upset beyond reasoning, and Fili had a nagging suspicion he knew was going on.

"He left early, didn't he?"

D_i_s nodded sharply, her mouth drawn into a firm line as she rinsed out the sodden rag and slapped it onto the table. "Would it hurt your Uncle to acknowledge him for _once_ in his life?"

Her sharp gaze could have lit fire to the table, and Fili could only be grateful that her anger was not directed at him. His plans may well have been burnt to ashes and scattered to the wind, however, and his earlier anticipation was crushed even as he hoped, "Did you tell Kili that I was coming back?"

"He gave me no chance," D_i_s responded darkly. "He was _up_, and he was _out_ before I even had the chance to say 'good morning.'"

She scrubbed furiously against a stain where Thorin had spilled his drink the other night, and Fili guessed that although she had no accurate accusations to wield against her brother, her view of Thorin's behavior was a reasonable excuse for D_i_s to vent her anger regarding her youngest son's letdown. Any minute condemnation that she could foster into a cause for war would suit her on this occasion, and only a fool would stand in her way when she was in this frame of mindset.

"Um... I should go find Kili," Fili determined, pointing over his shoulder and accepting that escape was by far his wisest course. He barely received a nod from D_i_s as he backed hastily out the door, and with a sigh of relief he hurried on down the path.

His Mother normally maintained a patience to be envied, but she could be a firestorm when she set her mind to it and _no one_, not even Thorin, baited trouble when D_i_s was on the rampage. It was better to steer clear of the house until the tension had cleared.

Besides, little brother was bound to attract some manner of trouble if he was in one of his fouler moods, and Fili felt badly for giving Kili the illusion that he had forgotten his birthday once more. He set off down the hill to seek after his lost sibling, his gait lacking its previous enthusiasm even if he was in no less haste to find his brother.

As though the clouds had transpired their worst for the sons of Durin, the light, misting rain swiftly turned into a rushing downpour and the softened dirt of the road dissolved into mud. For that the afternoon seemed all the bleaker, and with a sense of heightened urgency Fili lengthened his stride.

* * *

"A Dwarf, you say? Wouldn't happen to be a fighter would he; dark hair and a right hook fit to break a man's jaw?"

Fili grimaced at the innkeeper's description and nodded, doubly concerned now that his fears were confirmed. After asking around the town, he had traced Kili's steps to this tavern and it appeared that little brother was in greater discord than Fili had apprehended. He had wished for better news.

As Fili glanced about the wrecked tavern, where chairs lay splintered and shattered pottery was swept off the floor; where dark smears of blood could not be deciphered from pools of spilled ale; where a broken shard of tooth or the snapped blade of a knife testified a brutal conflict; he could not help but despair for Kili's well being. Fili dreaded the innkeeper's next words, certain he would be consulting a healer regarding his brother's critical state or worse.

"Aye, he was here," the innkeeper nodded, wiping the inside of a chipped mug with a filthy cloth before setting it aside to be used by the next unlikely customer. "Started a brawl, that one did; tore the place apart. It'll take a week to properly clean up the mess."

Fili's heart sank and he absently stroked the polished tip of the bow he had been so thrilled to present to Kili. He had wanted desperately to make up for the previous years when Kili had celebrated his birthday alone, and just when Fili thought all his plans were set in gilded stone his brother changed the rules and set off on his own.

Sighing heavily in discouragement, Fili inquired, "Do you know where he went?"

_Is he all right? Did he walk out of the fight, or did they have to carry him away? Did he return home, or is he nursing his wounds somewhere where he brood in peace? Is he even alive right now...?_

"He slipped past me in the chaos," the innkeeper grunted. "Broke up half my saloon and didn't stick around long enough to take responsibility for the mess. You say he's your brother? Well, you catch that little thief and you see to it he pays for everything, or I'm calling a brute squad on him."

Fili's mouth went dry at the innkeeper's words, and he was too numb to do anything save nod in acknowledgement. Something was dreadfully wrong with Kili; even were he in a sullen temper, Fili knew his brother would not intentionally start a fight as the innkeeper was implying.

Fili halted mid-stride, hesitating in the doorway as he turned back and asked the keeper of the tavern, "Did you ... Do you know what started the brawl?"

"Nope," the innkeeper shrugged dispassionately. "Just him and those durn kids - they lit out, too, before I could stop them." In afterthought he added, "As far as I heard, the Dwarf threw the first punch."

He continued wiping glasses with the same filthy rag and Fili determined that he would gain no further information. With a renewed sense of purpose he set off down the sodden path, relieved that wherever his brother had gone, he at least had retained the strength to flee.

Mud squelched under Fili's boots and dragged at his heels as rain poured in sheets around him. The Dwarf shivered and adjusted his hood, wishing that the material offered more of a shield against the downpour. The village was silent around him, windows boarded up and doors firmly bolted against the storm, scorning all who would have longed for shelter. In a morbid way this, too, was an encouragement, for even in his deepest gloom Kili had more sense than to wait out a thundershower and catch cold. He would have returned home, as dismal an environment as it may be.

Confident that he would yet have the chance to give his brother a birthday he would remember, Fili set off with renewed vigour. He smiled at the notion of running into Kili at any moment and catching him by surprise, and the thought kept him in good humor for a little while.

Soon enough Fili's enthusiasm was dampened by the increasing chill and the mournful howl of the wind which buffetted him relentlessly, plastering his face with rain and soaking him to the skin. He shuddered convulsively and sneezed, rubbing his frozen nose and berating Kili for dragging him into the wet and cold when they could be drinking mulled cider by a roaring fire; teasing Thorin when he stumbled inside and was apprehended at the door for tracking mud into the house; exchanging wild stories about their recent solo escapades; and finally ending the day by devouring Mother's sweet delicacies until they both were shrieking in laughter like hyperactive children.

A matter of greater concern to Fili, however, was that Kili was also out in this mess, and he worried more for his little brother's health than his own discomfort. Kili was prone to leave the house without a hood or even a coat if he was in a hurry, and if Fili was feeling uncomfortable then Kili was likely on the verge of catching pneumonia.

Fili shook his head grimly at the thought and chided his brother for his lack of foresight. All the effort he had gone to, and Kili had managed to louse up his own special day. Next year Fili intended to put a bolt on Kili's door if he had to, just to ensure his brother stayed put long enough to enjoy a proper birthday.

He was so focused on the path before him that Fili did not noticed the three travellers until he was nearly past them. Each wore hooded, weathered cloaks of no discernable color for the soiled material. The garments were a poor form of protection against the rain if the mud slathering their faces and clothing was any indication to go by, and they scowled in hostility at Fili as he warily approached.

Beside the shortest of the travellers a mangy, rabid looking black dog strained at its teather and barked frantically, prevented from launching itself towards the Dwarf only by the white knuckled grip of its master. Fili strove to appear calm despite his trepidation as he passed by the hound, skirting a wide berth around the travellers.

The shortest of the group scrutinized the Dwarf with cool precision before he glanced away in apparent dissintest, calmly peeling an apple away shred by shred with a saw edged pocket knife. Absently Fili noted that the handle appeared to be of Dwarven make, though the knife was small enough to be nearly engulfed in the Man's hand and he could not be certain. He put the thought out of his mind and continued on.

The youngest traveller cooly watched him leave, but the instant Fili's back was turned his eyes bored into the Dwarf with undisguised hate. His grasp on the dog's leash relaxed and he puckered his lower lip to whistle, only for his taller companion to grasp his shoulder firmly and shake him.

"Leave it, Keilan," he warned gruffly, his tone muffled as though he suffered from a thick, swollen tongue. "It is not worth more trouble."

Keilan regarded him with formidable, silent animosity before the dog's rope slipped from his limp fingers. "Dog don't know anythin'," he lisped between bruised lips and cracked teeth, smiling as much as his swollen features would allow before giving a low, shrill whistle.

Instantly the dog pelted forward, its straggly, long legs eradicating the distance as it launched itself towards the Dwarf. Fili had no time to draw his axe or even a knife, for the hound was too near and it would surely sink its teeth into his throat before he had a chance to throw up an arm for protection. Caught up in a wave of horror he bolted for the cover of the trees, splashing through puddles and stumbling over uneven terrain as he left the path.

His breath came in short, frantic gasps and his legs burned as he stumbled on, all other distractions lost to him in his desperation to escape his pursuer. He could hear the dog scrabbling behind him, sloshing through shallow trenches where the water reached Fili's knees and ever gaining as its four paws granted it a sure footing that the Dwarf lacked. The hound whimpered eagerly in anticipation of the kill, its bloodshot eyes rimmed in white as it honed in on its prey. Rows of sharp white teeth snapped at Fili's ankles and he jumped forward with a yell when they grazed the heel of his boot.

Fili's chances were slimmer than he realized, for the hound had been trained to cripple as well as to rend. It prepared to lunge for Fili's leg a second time, intending to sink its teeth into the Dwarf's calf and thus end his struggles at its own liesure. Just as it would have brought a grim ending to the chase, however, the hand of fate turned in Fili's favor and the hound flopped into a low ditch, yowling in surprise as it sank up to its neck in icy rainwater.

Fili wasted no time as he grasped a low branch and hauled himself into a tree, frantically clambering higher and tearing off leaves and thin branches as his boots fought for purchase on the slick bark. As he hooked his legs over another limb to pull himself higher, his hammer slipped from his belt and slammed into the ground inches from the circling hound. It skittered away nervously and Fili cursed. Boldened when no further weapons were thrown, the hound retraced its steps and watched Fili climb, harsh growls emitting from it as it waited for its prey to take a misstep and fall.

Only when he could climb no further did Fili allow himself to rest, leaning against the trunk and closing his eyes in relief at having escaped so horrific a plight. His heart pounded as though it would jump right out of chest and for several long minutes he could not calm his breathing. He sucked in a gasp when the hound clawed at the bark of the tree and leapt several feet to tear the lowest branches. The beast snarled when its attempts were foiled and with a gleam in its hungered eyes it retreated from the base of the tree and sat back on its haunches to wait.

Fili shook his head and swept back the dripping golden hair that had escaped his braids, hoping against hope that little brother had made it home safely after all. It did not look as though he would be making a grand escape of his own any time soon - not unless he could kill the dog with pinecones, that is -and it struck him how ironic it was that he had been the one seeking to rescue Kili from an unknown danger just this morning. Now it was Fili who was stuck in the tree waiting for assistance, while Kili was likely at home toasting by the fire until D_i_s hurried him out with Thorin to find his wayward sibling. The morbid humor of his situation was not lost to Fili, though he vaguely admitted that he would find no laughter in the matter were he not recovering from the shock of nearly being torn to pieces and the relief that he was yet alive.

Fili leaned his head back and allowed it to thunk against the tree, gazing impassively at the frustrated hound and wishing he had a large rock to drop on its head. There was a small chance he _might_ be able to fling his knife hard enough to slay the beast, but to do so from such a slippery, precarious height was inviting a fall, and he was uncertain if he should take the risk.

Even as Fili weighed his options, his gaze flitting to an opposite limb where he might have a more liable aim, the forceful gale nearly swept him off his feet and he clung to the trunk as the limber fir swayed beneath him. Raindrops froze into pellets of sleet, pounding him mercilessly until his teeth chattered and he could no longer feel his hands. His fingers were tinged blue as was his exposed face, and his dripping hood and cloak had long ceased to provide any form of shelter.

Fili knew he could not wait forever for the hound to tire of its game. Even if the frigid weather did not cause him irreparable harm, the dog's master would likely return before nightfall and Fili had the impression that verbal ridicule would be the least of his troubles. He had no knowledge of how to resolve his dilemma, however, and he could only cling to the wavering pine and pray that he would not be forced to wait out the cold, dismal night until a search party came.

When a branch whipped against his shoulderblades Fili flinched violently, wincing at the lancing blow and biting down on his lip to hold back a yelp. He scowled as the branch appeared to cling to his shoulders and he twisted to the side to fling it away, only to draw in a sharp breath when his hand brushed the bow and quiver he had purchased for Kili that morning.

The weapon had been wrapped in oilcloth earlier to protect it from the rain, and it had been stowed out of sight and mind until that moment. With clumsily hands devoid of feeling Fili hastily unstrapped the bow from his shoulder and tore away the cloth binding it, clinging desperately to the branch with his legs while fighting at the same time to prevent the wind from snatching Kili's bow from his grasp. He wavered for a moment as another gust of wind almost caused him to tumble off the limb, and Fili swore that if he ever made it out alive he would never climb another tree. _That_ particular pasttime he would leave to dear errant little brother.

It seemed to Fili as though any minute he would be blown away from his perch and he groaned when the ground swayed sickeningly beneath him. He longed to close his eyes and convince himself that he was in less peril than he imagined, but to do so would compromise any balance he had left. It was a dreadful, horrifying moment when he unwound the last of the oilcloth from the bow and almost dropped it, and Fili nearly accompanied the quiver and two arrows that slipped from his grasp and bounced down to greet the awaiting mongrel.

Straightening awkwardly and encouraged by the sleek weapon in his hands, Fili set one of the remaining arrows to the string and took aim. He knew he would have to adjust for the wind and rain, and even the the sodden wood and soggy feathers of the arrows themselves might offset their flight. Breathing a silent prayer to Mahal that his aim would be true, Fili drew the bowstring back cautiously, gritted his teeth in concentration and released.

With a _thwang_ that nearly jeopardized Fili's teetering grip the arrow hissed through the air, zipping past droplets of rain that appeared to move in slow motion. Fili could tell at once that the arrow would pass within inches of its intended target, and his gut clenched in dismay for he knew he would have but one chance left to succeed in his attempt.

In that moment, as though Mahal had heard his petition and interfered for the Dwarf's life, the wind shifted marginally and the arrow's course shifted to the left; just enough to drive the sharpened point directly into the cleft behind the hound's jaw.

The ragged dog convulsed and wailed in pain and bewilderment, shaking its head and yelping shrilly as its attempts to dislodge the arrow only caused it further agony. It rolled onto its side and bolted to its feet once more, slamming into the tree in its frenzy and crying out. Any satisfaction Fili felt was curdled by pity as the animal yowled in anguish and confusion, unable to understand its pain nor apprehend it. With a final yelp the hound took off at a stumbling lope, whether to run madly until its life blinked out or to seek its master to aid it Fili did not know. All that mattered to him was that he had escaped with his life and he could finally get away from this miserable forest.

Fili did not comprehend his descent from the tree, only recalling snatches of near slips and a wave of vertigo followed by a blinding pain in his skull when the final branch cracked beneath him. Fili clapped a hand to his head as he regained his feet, wavering in dizziness and wincing when his fingers came away sticky with blood.

_You have done it this time,_ was his only coherent thought. Fili had to smirk painfully at the irony this time; here he was trying to hunt down Kili and save his brother's sorry hide, and he was the one falling out of trees and running away from mangy, rabid dogs.

It was a rare twist of events in Fili's experience and he winced as he imagined how his family would react after the initial worry. Kili would no doubt tease him for it, sporting that insufferable grin of his when Thorin delivered a stern reprimand for Fili's carelessness and ordered him to stay at home and "_listen to his Mother or else he would be assisting Balin with his records for a month_." Perhaps Fili's greatest consternation was in fact his Mother, for D_i_s would certainly have words for her eldest as soon as she assured herself that he would be all right. After all, he _had _promised to be on time for Kili's birthday this year, and whether by his fault or the mangy dog's Kili had endured yet another disappointment.

The thought saddened Fili and he was instantly sobered. As though Kili could hear his unspoken words he sent a silent apology ahead of him, carefully gathering the remaining three arrows and quiver and re-wrapping them alongside the cherrywood bow. His hand lingered on the bow and he frowned as he rubbed a deep rut in the marred wood where it had struck an object in Fili's tumble.

The lump in his throat almost choked him and Fili bit back tears as he carefully tucked the bow under his arm and began the long trek home. This morning he had set such high hopes of granting Kili one of the best birthdays he could remember, and now all he had to offer was a damaged gift and another useless apology. Several crystal droplets sprang free from shimmering blue eyes and mingled with the rain, and Fili could allow the pretense that the skies mirrored the weight of his heart.

Despite all his efforts he had once again failed his little brother.

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** ... And so the Original Muse breaks forth with its unexpected plot twists and penchant for emotional drama. **

**Mini-muse is not pleased, as its rival - erm, "partner in crime" - tends to steal all the food and then break up the story unexpectedly once high on caffeine, so for those donating treats to the wonderful Muses, please remember that buffets go to the Original Muse, while all caffeine and chocolate goes to Mini-muse only. (Trust me; it is a terrible ordeal when the Original Muse is offered a lifetime supply of Starbucks Coffee.)**

**The Muses send their thanks for the food offered in the last chapter, and wish to inform the readers that they are encouraged by the fabulous reviews and are already conspiring for chapter three! :D**


	3. Not Alone

**If not pre-mentioned, neither the muses nor I own the Hobbit or anything related to Tolkein's works. (Don't tell the muses I said that!) **

**Someone asked last chapter where Keilan's dog came from. There is an explanation for its absense in the first chapter, which will be mentioned at a later time.**

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The force of the wind threatened to blow Fili over and he clutched his sodden coat around him, steeling himself against the howling gale. His hood and cloak provided no shelter against the rain for the material was as drenched as the terrain and small rivers trickled from his coat to mingle with the puddles. Torrents of rain had washed away sections of the road in a cascade of mud, and twice when Fili wandered too close to the edge he slid knee deep into sludge. His feet squelched in his boots where the liquefied sod had oozed inside, and were it not for the constant dousing of the rain he would have been caked with mud from head to toe.

Violent sneezes shook Fili's entire body and multiplied the agony lancing through his head, as though a thousand molten nails were boring into his skull. His teeth clacked until he tasted blood from his bitten tongue and he could barely make his arms respond to his commands. His legs moved of their own accord, pulling him towards the whispers of home and laughter and song.

For all that Fili knew he could have passed home long ago, or he could be scarcely a mile from the forest he had fled. He could see little in the blustery night and he had lost all sense of direction and time. Only the pounding in his skull and the wracking chills which convulsed his body held any meaning to him.

Visions of home, of dry clothes, a sizzling fire and a hot meal to banish the chill which consumed him; all seemed mere dreams, like a memory he could not grasp or a fantasy known only in stories. Even so Fili plodded on, drawn by an inexplicable yearning which shunned the dreary night.

Lightning flashed in a sizzling wreath of blue-white light, illuminating the country for miles around. An instant later the echo of thunder crescendoed like the drumroll of Aulë's hammer, stampeding horses and sending the wild animals scurrying for cover. Fili's attention was diverted not by the roiling noise, however, but the lightning's revelation of a limp form strewn across the road.

Fili's gut clenched and he paused uneasily in trepidation of the unknown. He tried to convince himself that it _must _be the hound he had shot, for surely it would have wandered further than he anticipated due to its pain. Aulë help them all if this was a stranger in need of aid, whose only source of assistance was a half frozen, concussed Dwarf who could do little more than weave his way through the muck.

Electricity charged the air once more and this time Fili could make out the toe of a boot and one arm rising above the growing lake. He did not comprehend running, his overtaxed mind allowing instinct to take over while the world spun and his head jolted with each slosh of his wading feet. The next moment Fili was dropping to his knees, pulling the stranger's head and shoulders from the water and shaking him in an effort to rouse him from his stupor.

Time reeled to a halt and suddenly Fili could not breath.

"_No_..." he whispered, his breath quickening as he shook his head fertively in denial. "No, it cannot be... Kili! _Kili_!"

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Kili whipped his head to the side, murmuring anxiously in his delrium and struggling in vain to escape. Claws of iron strapped him against the wall of a dark cavern, his eyes searching the blackness until eyes like shields of hardened bronze flickered to life like a thousand flames burning into his skull. He screamed voicelessly as the dragon which had slain their people approached, its gaping maw of dulled, silver teeth promising further agony for its captive.

Just as the dragon raised its head to shower fire upon him the scene changed. He was writhing in agony in a prairie, the sun shining in its full brilliance with a cheerfulness that denied the torture which devoured his broken leg just like the hole he had foolishly stumbled into. The fangs of a warg grazed his cheek and blood flowed into his eyes, and he had no strength to raise a hand and wipe it away.

Crimson filled his vision and he was no longer lying on the endless field, but a bloody crag littered with the bodies of Dwarven warriors hacked to death by Azog the Defiler. He strained to find a sign of hope, forced to crane his neck to see for his arms were pinned by his broken shield and the unconscious form of his brother. Orcs alike to black ants stretched as far as the horizon and he wept for despair, for there was no end to the slaughter.

A foot slammed down on his chest and he cried out as his ribs shattered and his lungs could not draw breath. Bronze eyes, steeled and malicious, regarded him with false pity as Azog lowered his sword to the Dwarf's throat. Kili swallowed against the bite of icy metal and fought back tears of anguish, for though his body was riddled with torment and his throat raw from screaming he would not show weakness to the murderer of his people. In a final act of defiance he spat in Azog's face, and as his right hand was stamped into the earth and pain which rivaled no other overwhelmed him, the scene disappeared in a mist of rain and biting wind and the taste of bitter disappointment.

Clouds enveloped the landscape in a shroud of dread, and the wind moaned as though to weep for the passing of a life born of the stars. He could not move. A tall pine had fallen across his shoulders, burying his face halfway in the mud and blocking his vision in a tangle of branches. His arms were pinned beneath him as his feet scrabbled uselessly in a last attempt to free himself. He was sinking into the cold, suffocating embrace of the earth and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

Suddenly he heard his name, and hope thrilled within him as he glimpsed Fili through the veil of emerald needles. Even as he watched, however, Fili turned away and hope was crushed into despair as his brother left without him. Kili opened his mouth to scream for help and muddied water gushed into his mouth, and suddenly he was choking and gagging and he could not _breathe_, and Fili had left him alone to die. There was no hope for him and he would drown in the mire of a washed out road. He would be a dishonor to the memory of Durin and a disgrace to his family, and he would be alone.

Just as the quicksand enveloped him and he was prepared to relinquish his spirit to Aulë, a hand grasped his own and with the strength of love and desperation born only of one who called himself _brother _he was yanked from the sea of darkness.

"Kili! Kili, I'm here! Please, Kili, say something to me!"

That was Fili's voice; he would recognize it anywhere! Kili ached to respond but the symphony of anguish called him back to the dark and he could only breathe a moan of distress; so muted and crestfallen he could not believe it to be his own.

"Kili... Stay with me, Kili!"

He wanted to obey. He yearned for nothing more than to open his eyes and see his brother's face, to know that he was not abandoned and Fili had not forgotten him after all. His body would not respond, however, and he was _so _tired.

"No. Don't you dare give up now, Kili! Do you hear me? Don't you _dare_ leave me!"

Hands were fumbling to grasp his shoulders; shaking him; tearing him away from the warmth and comfort that beckoned for him to merely close his eyes and allow everything to drift away. He could feel no pain, and that was well. He wished Fili would understand that and allow him to sleep.

"Kili... don't... _please_!"

A wail of hopelesness that could not belong to his strong, even minded brother rended the night as though torn from the depth of Fili's soul. It was a sob of heartache and denial, of unrequited anguish as Fili tore away the bindings holding Kili's wrists in place and gathered him close with the fervor of one who had lost something precious.

Kili should have been relieved to have been freed at last, but his arms had no sensation and his body had long ceased to respond. The world spiralled and he felt weightless for a moment, before his head slumped onto Fili's shoulder and his brother's arms wrapped around him so tightly that for a moment he could not breathe.

Sobs wracked Fili's body and Kili knew this was wrong. His brother did not deserve to be sorrowful on his account; not on his birthday. Kili could do nothing to reassure him, however, not even so much as to twitch a muscle. He could only lie helplessly as Fili crumpled into a thousand irreparable shards, as his brother rocked back and forth and moaned in despair, garbling uncoherent demands and pleas which Kili could not fulfill.

He longed to assure Fili that all was well; to tell him that there was no need to cry, for Kili was not afraid of death any longer. Fili was here, and that was all that mattered. Even if he was taken to Aulë's Mansion here and now, in the grime and muck and humility of a coward's death, he would be at peace for he would die knowing he was no longer alone.

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**I know, this is a horrible cliffhanger and I am a cruel author to leave my readers hanging this way. So sue me already. *Points to the Muses* "They made me do it!"**

***Mini-muse perks up, checks email box, whines and then slinks dejectedly into a corner before bounding up onto the spinning chair and repeating.***

**Aw, poor lil' thing is so distressed when it has no reviews to read every ... five ... minutes. Confounded Mini-muse hogs my computer just so it can inspire itself every second of the day! No wonder I never get anything done...**

**Feed the ravenous little bugger so that it will stop holding my keyboard hostage and let me work on what was **_**supposed**_** to be the rest of chapter three. And remember, a well fed muse is a happy muse, and happy muses torture Kili.**

**Hm... Should I be worried about this?**


	4. Left Behind

**The Mini-muse is ballet dancing on the computer chair for conceited joy at its wonderful chapter. Meanwhile the Original Muse rolls its eyes and chomps down the rest of the food.**

**Please remember to feed the muses since the Mini-muse is an emotional basketcase and it will die of unhapiness if it does not get to read at least a gazillion reviews. (Well... at least it likes to think so.) Either way the last thing we want is for the Original Muse to take over this story due to Mini-muse's untimely farewell ... it just might end up killing one of the main characters! 'O'**

**'Sigh.' These AN's clearly reflect the author's serious need for a life.**

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Instinct failed him and for a moment Fili could not remember how to breathe. His gaze was captivated by the pole lashed across Kili's shoulders and fury curdled within him at the revelation that his brother had been intentionally harmed by another. Had the perpetrator been present Fili would have cut out his heart without a second thought. In this moment it would only have been justice meted out by his hand.

Lightning dazzled the sky and in the same instant Fili's anger dissipated, for his eyes were drawn inevitably to Kili's face where bruises darkened on his slack features and every faint breath drew him closer to a realm where Fili would not be permitted to follow. He cried out softly in fear, gently pulling tangled wet strands from Kili's face and watching with increasing trepidation for the next inhale.

Shakily, his breathing so shallow Fili could almost not discern it, Kili gaped listlessly for air, wincing as though the slightest movement only brought him further agony. Fili was almost afraid to touch him, terrified he should cause his brother further suffering. He could do no more than look on helplessly as his brother struggled for each gasp, drawing nearer to a finality that Fili would not accept. He had never felt so useless in all his life.

_I almost left him behind._

Perhaps this thought was the worse; that he could have passed Kili by along the way, too caught up in his own misery to know that his brother's life was in peril. Had it not been for the lightning Fili would have continued on without a second glance, ignorant that Kili was lying mere feet from him; bound to that cursed staff, cold as ice under his fingertips, wheezing for each breath as though it were his last…

Fili choked in a sharp gasp and shook his head in fervent denial. Kili _could not_ die this night, not when Fili now had the chance to save him. Not on his birthday…

"Kili! Kili, I'm here! Please, Kili, say something to me!"

His voice broke and tears streamed freely down his cheeks. Fili was unaware of his outward turmoil, too caught up in his whispered litany for Kili to, '_Please, please open your eyes! Show me you're still with me!'_

His pleas went unanswered and Fili reeled, shaking from more than the cold as he clasped his hands around Kili's face and begged, "Kili! Kili, I'm here! Please, Kili, say something to me!"

So softly that it should have been impossible to discern over the storm, and yet so perceptible to Fili's ears that he could have heard it in the midst of an earthquake, Kili responded with a moan so wretched, so forsaken, that it tore Fili's heart into a thousand shards. He sobbed in relief, joy intermingled with distress as he encouraged,

"Yes, Kili; it's me, I'm … I'm here! I didn't forget you; I swear! I … Oh, Kili, forgive me! I did not _know_!"

He could no longer tell whether it was salt water or rain which coursed down his face and he did not care. Heaving sobs wracked his body as he drew his brother into his lap as best he could and fumbled with the ties of what felt like animal hair binding Kili to the detestable staff.

In his heart Fili knew he was to be blamed for this atrocity Had he not considered a petty weapon a greater gift for Kili than his brother's companionship on this day? Had he not allowed himself to be delayed by the black hound when he knew the three travelers could only mean ill? Had he not neglected Kili's birthday for the past two years, forcing his brother to believe he was not worthy of his family's time and devotion, until Kili set off on his own and was caught unawares by his tormentors? It was all Fili's fault, and his alone. Now Kili was paying the ultimate price for his mistakes, and Fili could not bear the shame. No one deserved such torment, least of all the little brother he had sworn to love and protect since D_i_s had first set Kili in his arms.

Though the wind yet howled menacingly, tearing at his hair and whipping his hood around him like a sodden flag, the roar of the storm seemed to hush and with a sense of foreboding Fili stilled in his efforts to free his brother.

He could not longer see Kili breathing.

"_No, no, no…"_ Fili whispered, abandoning his attempts and digging his fingers into Kili's throat in his urgency to find a pulse. He placed his ear to Kili's chest and listened for a heartbeat, straining until his own heart clawed in his throat and the world spun in a maelstrom of horror.

"Kili…. Stay with me, Kili!" He was breathing too fast, black dots swimming in his vision as he renewed his efforts. A harsh keen was forced from his throat as he found no sign of life.

"No," Fili determined, both despair and rage coursing through him as he grabbed Kili's shoulders and shook him roughly, compelling him to open his eyes. "Don't you dare give up now, Kili! Do you hear me? Don't you _dare_ leave me!"

A sob broke free and he wanted to slap his brother senseless; to gather him into his arms and beg him not to leave; to plead forgiveness until his voice failed him and he could do nothing more than weep. Fili yearned to say anything if it would only bring Kili back to him, yet the only entreaty he could force past his dismay was,

"Kili... don't... _please_!"

His hands fisted in Kili's jacket and a wail of loss was elicited from him as he bent his forehead to rest against his brother's and wept. His numbed fingers tore the bindings free and he pulled Kili into his arms, cradling him with utter gentleness as though he were comforting his kid brother after a nasty fall. Fili knew he would give anything in this moment just to see his brother open his eyes and promise he would not leave him this night, and yet he knew with a deeper, agonizing certainty that he would never hear Kili's voice again.

A cry of brokenness, of a desolation and sorrow that was too terrible for one so young to bear, as life and joy was shorn away in a pitiless blow leaving only the shattered remains of a soul behind; such a cry echoed into the night, rising above the thunder and rendering a silence too dreadful to voice among those who heard. For to Fili there was no ray of light for tomorrow, as Kili was the manifestation of hope and laughter and the binding which held them all together through the darkest of storms. There was no future without Kili, and as Fili bent over in grief and tenderly kissed the top of his brother's head, he supplicated the fates to take him this night so that they could both die together. In that instant even the knowledge of his Mother's sorrow could not have drawn Fili back, for he knew that Kili had gone on without him and he could not bear to exist without his brother at his side.

Suddenly a calloused, weathered hand grasped Fili's shoulder and he was pushed back, his struggles unheeded as the assailant reached for Kili. With a shout of heartache and bitter anger Fili struck out blindly at the one who would take his brother away from him, eliciting a grunt as his fist met flesh. For an instant his attacker withdrew, only to kneel in the muck and pull Kili towards him even as two burly hands grabbed Fili under the arms and held him immobile. Fili screamed as his brother was torn from him and he writhed against the restraints, sobbing openly and not caring who saw, for nothing mattered any longer save that Kili was gone and he had been left alone.

"Fili! Control yourself! We are trying to _help_ you!"

Thorin's ragged bellow sheared through Fili's panic and he fell limply in Dwalin's grip. He watched listlessly as Thorin bundled Kili into his cloak and gathered his nephew into his arms. The glint of fear in his Uncle's eyes as he looked to Dwalin was unmistakable, and Fili knew instinctively that they were too late. Abruptly the will to fight was lost and he slumped against Dwalin, closing his eyes in destitution and waiting for the rain and cold to claim him as their own.

"Fili! On your feet! Enough of this childish behavior." The frantic pitch in Thorin's voice was clear, but even his Uncle's brusque orders were not enough to move Fili.

Kili was dead. What reason was there to hurry any longer?

"Dwalin, get him up and keep him moving!"

"Up you go now, lad," Dwalin ordered with a kindness that belayed his strength, gripping Fili's forearms and lifting him to his feet. He would have collapsed straightaway if not for the taller Dwarf holding him upright. Even so it must have been a struggle for Dwalin to force him to walk step by step, wading through knee-deep water at some points and at others lifting him off the ground momentarily when the ground turned into a pool of sludge.

Thorin was a tower of strength in Fili's wilted resolve, for though the wind shrieked around him and the rain pounded in cascades as though to drive him to his knees he never once faltered in his stride, nor did the fierce light of determination ever fade from his burning gaze. Even so Fili's eyes rarely strayed from his brother's limp form, and he nearly broke down in despair at the sight. Kili looked so helpless and vulnerable, wrapped up like a child in Thorin's cloak and hood with his head nestled against his Uncle's shoulder and his eyes closed as though in peaceful slumber. Every renewed glimpse of his brother sent a tidal wave of anguish through Fili and he no longer felt the sleet dripping in tiny icicles off the edge of his hood nor the mud sucking at his boots. The empty hole in his spirit consumed all thoughts and no physical pain could rival that of his heart.

Fili did not know what path brought him home in the end. One moment he was doggedly treading through puddles, the next he was standing alone in a brightly lit room. Vaguely he heard D_i_s crying out, before Thorin bustled Kili away with such haste that Fili could not have protested even if he'd had the strength. Dwalin vanished once more; whether to find a healer, or round up the search party or merely get out of the way, Fili did not know.

The only fragment of thought he could grasp was that soon his family would learn that he had been too late, and Kili would never again look at him with impish delight in his eyes, or cheer their Mother with one of his most brilliant smiles, or goad Uncle Thorin into a temper for one of his schemes, or even bat away one of those confounded cats when it was pestering him while he tried to read.

Fili and his brother would never again race one another to the edge of the pond, where Kili would wobble off balance until Fili pushed him in and gloated until Kili reciprocated the unwelcome dousing. Kili would no longer sweep D_i_s in an enthusiastic hug just because the sun was shining or because he had just met a girl he liked or because he simply felt happy and wanted to share it with someone. When Thorin would recount the legends of their people during the long winter nights, Fili would not be able to look over his shoulder and see Kili sitting by the fire and listening with captivated attention, hanging on his Uncle's every word as though it was gold from the Mountain itself.

The bow Fili had purchased that morning for his brother now seemed so cheap and useless. It was lost somewhere, rotting in the mud, and Fili could not bring himself to care for Kili would no longer be there for him to present it to. His brother's dark eyes would no longer shine with unbridled joy as he tested the craftsmanship of his favored weapon, practicing for hours on end for the sake of his own personal satisfaction as each arrow whispered into its target as though flying true to its course just to please him.

How Fili longed to take back this one day and begin anew. He would have traded all the fabled treasure of Erabor just to walk out with his brother that morning and reshape the course of events. Perhaps if he had granted Kili his companionship on his birthday instead of frivolously spending his time to find "the perfect gift", his brother would still be with him now.

The thought was too much to bear and Fili allowed his subconsciousness to take control and free him of his torment. There must be something he had forgotten, or else he would not be standing alone in the middle of the room dripping water all over Mother's clean floor. A niggling voice mercilessly reminded him that he must never walk into the house with his shoes tracking mud, and such a small trifle caused his ears to burn with horror. D_i_s did not need further discouragement; not now, when the body of her youngest son had been carried inside and she had no strength left but to mourn her lost child. Fili should not have caused her such thoughtless inconvenience.

Bending with difficulty he struggled to remove his boots, numbed fingers fumbling with the latches until his frustration boiled over and he wanted nothing more than to kick the shoes into the fire and be done with it.

Gentle hands suddenly pushed his own aside and Fili blinked uncertainly, realization dawning as he glanced up and saw his Mother. D_i_s offered neither the condemnation nor silent rebuke Fili anticipated, her gaze unexpectedly tender and compassionate as she unlaced the ties with trembling hands and eased her son's boots off one by one. Fili felt like a child again, caught out in a rainstorm and waiting for his Mother's admonishment. He ducked his head, wallowing in his shame as he whispered dejectedly,

"I'm sorry."

D_i_s paused for a moment and released a shaky breath before composing herself and finishing her task. "Whatever for, Fili?"

"I ... It's all ..." His apologies died in his throat and he looked away, unable to bear the kindness in his Mother's eyes.

"I'm so _sorry_," he finally choked out. "_I__t's all my fault._"

D_i_s immediately straightened and hushed him gently, wiping away his tears even though her own eyes sparkled with a thousand diamonds. Fili turned away, unable to meet her kind gaze when he knew he deserved nothing less than judgement. D_i_s would have none of that and she swept a hand across her son's forehead, tucking back limp strands of hair and forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"Fili, it is _all right._ You are not to be held to blame." For all her assurances she could not disguise the sorrow and trepidation which overwhelmed her, and when D_i_s bit her lower lip and averted her eyes Fili _knew_.

He opened his mouth to plead forgiveness and beg that his Mother grant it even if she refused to lay the burden of guilt on his shoulders, but before he could speak D_i_s tutted in sympathy and busied herself stripping the leather half-gloves from Fili's hands, examining blue tinged nail beds with no small amount of concern.

"Oh, my poor boy; you must be half frozen!"

Before Fili could stutter a protest he was hustled over to the fireplace, his sodden coat stripped away and a vividly colored quilt draped around his shoulders. D_i_s moved so quickly it made his head spin and Fili blinked his eyes shut as the room tilted. She fretted over him like a lost kitten, distracting herself by any means possible even as she cast anxious glances down the hall. Fili understood where his Mother _needed_ to be right now and he could not detain her with his paltry suffering.

"You sh-should g-g-go," he stammered, shivers convulsing through him as his body slowly began to warm up. "K-Ki-"

He could not speak his brother's name without breaking down again and Fili buried his face in his arms, muffling his sobs and pleading with the higher powers to tell him why Kili had to be taken instead of himself. It should not have been his little brother dying alone out there on this miserable, frigid night. Was it not Fili's responsibility as the elder to look after Kili, and to die in his stead if it ensured his brother survived to live and laugh another day?

He should have been there for him. He should have been there every day of Kili's life, treasuring every last moment right up to the end. He knew how important Kili's birthday had been to him, and every occasion missed was like a fresh wound upon his heart and Fili cried out as the anguish rent his soul until there was nothing left but a raw, aching wound that would never heal.

D_i_s pulled her son into her embrace and Fili leaned against her and cried like a child, yearning for her to lie and tell him all would be well even if nothing could erase this tragedy. No words of comfort were offered and he gave in to his despair, allowing it to wash over him like a soothing poison that numbed the senses and blotted out tattered dreams of what should have been.

Abruptly the door slammed open and D_i_s tore away from her son, leaving him lost and empty and _alone _once more. Through a haze of tears Fili saw her meet Oin at the door and practically drag him towards Kili's room, as though further confirmation was necessary to tell what Fili had already surmised. Dwalin shifted uncomfortably in the doorway before wringing out his cloak by the fire, hanging it on a peg to dry and adding a few more logs to the flames before leaving once more. He was not one to waste time with awkward attempts at reassurances, and for this Fili was ultimately grateful. At this moment he only desired to be alone.

As soon as the door closed he bowed his head and relinquished himself to his grief, his tears spent and his heart heavier than stone as the fire slowly died and night plunged him into darkness.

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**Before certain reviewers strangle me (or heaven help us, the muses) as was vaguely hinted at last chapter, remember that Fili is half frozen and dealing with a concussion and a guilt complex. His mind is not at its highest point of coherency at this point, and not all is as it seems.**

**Or maybe I did write an epic tragedy. :/ Chapter 5 has not been written yet, after all, and the Muses have yet to come to a decision. They only work for food, so**** feed the Muses and plead with them to allow Kili to live.**


	5. Blood to Pay

**The Mini-muse is attempting yoga and meditating on different methods with which to torture Kili. Meanwhile the Original Muse has snuck behind it and snitched all the coffee. This bodes ill for the Durin family.**

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_Goblins pinned him to the earth, spidery hands clenching his wrists in manacles of iron as he screamed and writhed against their hold. Fire scorched his torso, the prodding of a branding iron intensifying his agony as he gasped for each breath. One of the Goblin leaders peered down at him and for a moment Kili thought he saw Thorin's eyes staring out of its distorted face, and then the pain returned with a vengeance and blackness smothered his vision._

_For an instant Kili was free of the restraints and he leaned against the cool wall of stone, panting and closing his eyes as the heat of a thousand unseen torches assaulted him. Sweat poured from his brow and clouds of murky grey swam before his eyes as he searched frantically for a means to escape the stifling tomb. His arms hung uselessly at his sides, wrenched and twisted even though he could not yet feel the pain of the torn muscles. He heard the roar of flames and feared that his tormentors had returned, only to cry out in terror as the Dragon reappeared and cast a volley of flames to devour him. _

_Fire turned to frost and Kili was floundering in an icy river, powdery snow falling into his eyes as he struggled to pull himself out of the frigid torrent. His hands slipped on the jagged edges, deep cuts in his palms streaming blood. He called for help to no avail, for his cries were lost to the shrieking of the wind. His teeth clacked unceasingly and his limbs grew heavier, until finally they ceased to respond altogether. It seemed to Kili as though he was viewing his plight from a distant vantage point, watching himself die as his mind berated him for his stupidity in traveling alone. He should have waited and gone on with Fili when he'd had the chance._

_Miraculously he somehow managed to pull himself halfway out of the water, but there his strength was at an end. Leaning his head on the pillow of his arms, his coat sleeves crackling beneath him as the frozen cloth bent until it split, Kili stuttered for breath and waited for death to claim him._

_A familiar voice drifted on the wind, drawing him unwillingly out of his stupor as it persisted in calling his name. With a faint moan, Kili raised his head fractionally and forced his eyes open a slit. Several feet away, though it seemed as leagues to Kili, Thorin regarded him with grim impatience, edging away as though desiring to move on and wondering why his nephew did not pull himself out of the water and follow. Kili stretched out a hand for help, swallowing convulsively as no sound was forced past his aching throat. Thorin shook his head in stern disapproval and marched away, never once looking back._

_At once the ice crumbled beneath him and Kili was drowning, unable to move, unable to breath, and oh, so __**very**__, __**very alone**__. Hopelessness filled him for he knew no one would bother to come and save him, and he desperately wished that Fili were at his side. No one tarried to say farewell, however, save the cold and the dark and the waters embracing him in their inescapable hold; until the light winked out and he was left all alone once more._

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"You are only agitating him with your anger."

Oin's calm voice broke through Thorin's daze and he glanced up sharply at the rebuke. The healer did not turn away from his patient, deftly binding long strips of cloth tightly around Kili's battered torso even as he lectured his exiled leader. "If you cannot control yourself, Thorin, I shall have to force you to leave. You poison the air with your fury; you will only cause him further harm in this state."

Thorin cast Oin a withering glower in response, briskly rubbing warmth back into Kili's icy, limp hands as though he had not heard the warning. His nephew shuddered under the healer's administrations, fretfully tossing his head and twitching spasmodically as though fighting away an unseen foe. Had he been conscious Thorin did not doubt Kili would be vocalizing his pain. He would almost have preferred that rather than this silent suffering, as though Kili was already wandering the Halls of Aulë.

To see his sister's youngest son, normally so vibrant and alive, fighting for each gasp was like a physical blow that left Thorin reeling and swinging out blindly against an enemy he could not find. The rapidly darkening bruises, even more pronounced in contrast to Kili's ashen skin, bore testimony to a brutal, senseless attack by a merciless opponent. Apparently the beating itself had not served enough to satisfy his nephew's assailants, however, and Thorin's blood simmered in his veins as he registered the cruelty that had been dealt.

Two ragged, uneven patches of stubble spanned nearly the entire left side of Kili's head where his thick, dark hair had been hacked away. The damage was irreparable. Not for many years would Kili's hair regain its former length, and scarcely enough strands had been left to conceal the mark of disgrace.

The disparaging blow had been a deliberate act of humiliation, and the sight only served to fuel Thorin's rage. D_i_s had once claimed he had the temperament to rival that of a Dragon's: a mood that was swift to change, with a large heart that possessively guarded that which was his treasure and a deep chasm of fury which spewed brimstone and ashes once provoked. In this moment Thorin would not have argued his sister's diagnosis. Had he the chance he would have killed the unknown assailant with his bare hands if that could avenge the unmerited attack against his nephew.

Kili suddenly let out a soft cry, tugging his hand frantically as if to escape Thorin's grasp. He flung his head to the side as though shrinking away from a blow, trembling from more than fever. His breath came in shallow, rapid gasps as he released a weak, high pitched keen as though caught up in the throes of sheer terror.

Thorin's eyes widened in alarm and he looked to Oin for guidance, but the healer had already diagnosed his patient's source of alarm. His face livid with mingled frustration and concern, he grabbed the bewildered Thorin and practically dragged him from Kili's side.

In the amount of time it took for Thorin to register that he was being forcibly removed from the premises Oin had thrown him out, calling for D_i_s to hurry with the boiled water before closing the door firmly behind him. For a moment Thorin stared at the barrier between himself and his nephew, sorely tempted to tear it down and demand access whether or not Oin preferred it.

Before he could consider performing that notion D_i_s pushed him past him with a steaming kettle, rapping her knuckles thrice on the door before letting herself in. There was a brief exchange of words before she reappeared, closing the door softly behind her and folding her arms as though to bar the entrance.

Fire seared in his little sister's gaze and Thorin knew this was a battle he would not win. He could control his circumstances by the power and authority in his demeanor alone, but once D_i_s' mothering instincts took over the force of an earthquake could not sway her. Thorin would face better odds in single-handed combat against Smaug than to challenge his sister when it came to the matter of her children.

"Fili is in his room, now. He needs someone there with him," D_i_s stated. "He was already feverish when I found him at the hearth, and I almost could not wake him."

Abruptly her expression softened in worry and the antagonism dropped out of her tone, fear replacing the glint of fire in her eyes. "_Please_. Watch over him?"

For a moment they stared at one another, two siblings separated by the gulf of differentiation and united by the ties of a shared horror. With a muted whimper D_i_s crumbled against Thorin, clinging to him desperately and trembling in her effort to hold back her tears. He held her gently, well aware that words of comfort and solace were futile in this dark hour. For several long minutes D_i_s struggled, drawing on the strength of her brother until the fit was passed and she was prepared to face the trials ahead. Slowly she drew away, wiping her eyes dry with the cuff of her sleeve and nodding.

"I'll be all right."

He could make the same claim and they would both be deceiving themselves. The same dread that weighted Thorin's heart like a stone reflected in his sister's forlorn gaze, and yet they stood firm like two warriors in the tides of a storm: unbending; invincible; never once turning in flight until the battle was over and they could retreat into the shadows to mourn in solitude. They were Dwarves, and they were the descendants of kings. There was no exoneration for those who faltered.

D_i_s' eyes misted like twin stars as she tore herself away, worry for her child overcoming all other apprehension. She slipped noiselessly into Kili's room, closing the door with a soft _'snick_' behind her.

Thorin remained fixated to the spot, waiting apathetically as though any moment the barrier would turn aside and he would be permitted entrance. It only with the sheer force of will that he shook himself out of his daze and turned away to seek out his other nephew.

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Blue eyes glimmered fever bright and chills wracked Fili's body despite the multiple quilts he huddled under. His gaze reflected the light of the small fire D_i_s had stoked to life, but his sight was unfocused as he persistently sought the elusive figment of his dreams.

Thorin ran a hand over his face and sighed heavily, sinking into a chair with the impression that the entire world had been laid to rest upon his shoulders. It was enough that one of his nephews should be ill. For both to be struck down at the same time, with only one healer at the moment to spare, was a calamity that pulled him unwillingly to a similar memory of his younger life: A time when all he cared for and loved was sheared away in the madness of Thrain's greed and Thorin believed there would never be a cause to be cheerful again.

Fili and Kili had given him new meaning to the term "live" rather than "survive." To lose his two epiphanies of joy, which long ago had given him hope when he thought all was for naught, was the closest equivalent Thorin could compare to losing his own sons. He selfishly entertained the notion that even D_i_s would not mourn so much as he should either of his boys die this night.

"Uncle?"

Thorin instantly snapped to the alert at Fili's voice, lurching to his feet to check on his condition. Fili's brow burned against his hand and Thorin swore under his breath. He grabbed a cup of water D_i_s had left nearby and encouraged Fili to drink, only for his nephew to turn his head away and cover his face with one arm as a wave of nausea threatened to upend his stomach.

"K-K-Kili," Fili stammered, his eyes flicking towards the door like a wild animal seeking an escape route.

"Oin is with him," Thorin soothed, following his nephew's gaze and wishing D_i_s was here instead. He always felt like a bumbling fool when attempting to comfort his nephews. Their Mother's whispered, hope filled assurances would have been a far greater solace at this time.

"I l-left him," Fili exclaimed in horror, struggling to sit up. "He's out there a-lone, Uncle! Y-y-you have t-to find him!"

"He is here," Thorin responded hastily, pressing his nephew back down lest he make a break for the door. "We found him. He is safe."

Fili shook his head, unable to comprehend Thorin's words as he choked out, "It's his birthday, U-Uncle, and I … I left him th-there all alone! Y-you have to br-ring him back!"

"I will," Thorin assured helplessly, glancing fervently over his shoulder as though D_i_s would magically appear and rectify the situation. "We will find him."

"T-tell him I'm s-sorry!" Fili gulped. "I d-didn't forget! Please, y-you have to t-t-tell him th-that!"

"I will be certain he knows," Thorin nodded, his heart heavy with a promise he knew he might not be able to fulfill.

Placated for the moment, Fili closed his eyes and surrendered to the chaotic visions of his delirium. He quivered even in his dreams, ever searching for that which was beyond his grasp, his brother's name ever foremost in his anxious murmurs. Thorin sank back into his chair and buried his head in his hands, wondering what stroke of ill fate could have brought about such tragedy on a day that should have been one of celebration.

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_The night's rain had formed a swamp of the land, treacherous sinkholes and hidden trenches creating a wasteland teeming with disaster. Clusters of grass had sprung up bright and clean, as though to invite unwary trespassers into a field of death. Logan had warned him not to leave the house. In fact, he had shouted until he was practically hoarse listing a good twenty reasons why Keilan should not set a foot outside._

"_You could sink up to your neck in the bog and I would not even realize what had happened to you!" he had proclaimed in the end. "I may not even be able to find your body! You could __**die**__ out there, Keilan, and no one would be the wiser. You have a brilliant mind; why can't you use common sense for once in your life?"_

_He never listened to his brother._

_Logan was a fool, and Keilan despised him for it. His brother's fear-driven caution overrode all sensibility and such was his adoration for peace that he would lower himself to the level of those contemptible, filthy, thieving Dwarves which had invaded their territory. Keilan did not doubt that his brother would sooner bare his neck to a sword than fight for what he believed to be a just cause, and __**that**__ he would never understand._

_Keilan, on the other hand, knew that life was determined not by the fates, but by the ranks of power. The strong survived by their brutal measures and the weak and cowardly were trodden into the mud. Those who had the sharper blade or the flintier mind triumphed over those who easily trusted, and only the crafty fox that could out-think the hound would escape with its whiskers attached. _

_Keilan was the fox. He schemed and reasoned, never stepping out without at least two "friends" on which to layer the blame, and never taking the initiative of an attack unless he had a proper alibi. He had allowed the Dwarf to throw the first punch in the tavern, even allowing his "dear cousins" to take the brunt of the fight so that he could proclaim that – as the youngest – he had been dragged into a conflict he never wanted anything to do with. Naturally he had insulted the Dwarf, comparing him with such vile terms as should never grace society, but he had never intended to use violent means. It was simply not in his nature!_

_Keilan leered at his own wily excuses, taking a wide berth around a suspicious cluster of waterlilies that had sprung up overnight. Foul liquid bubbled not far beneath their roots and a toad sploshed into the lake with a contented 'croak.' _

_Jag was missing somewhere in this marsh, and Keilan would not turn back until he found his dog. He had rescued the mangled thing when it was a year old; scarred and battered from wolf fights and trained to tear out any man's throat. The starved pup, baited with large chunks of freshly slain rabbit or venison, had quickly come to regard him as a friend rather than an intruder. The moment he could touch Jag without the dog trying to tear out his throat, Keilan had cut through its halter and stolen it away. Jag was better off with him, after all. He had fed it and trained it to run wild and free, rather than treating it as its previous owners had by locking it away with scarcely enough food to survive until it had opportunity to maim another pitiful animal._

_Jag was __**his**__ dog, and the only creature Keilan really cared about, for that matter. Logan hated the mangy hound and his cousins stayed as far away as possible, but Keilan would have no other animal to call his own. They got along well, the two hunters, and he felt that for once someone understood his satisfaction in the thrill of a bloody kill and the craving for vengeance which all others spurned._

_Keilan would have liked to watch Jag maul that whelp of an elf hybrid he had smeared into the road, but the innkeeper had already seen the dog and ordered that it be kept outside where it would not cause trouble. Should the meddler have learned of the brutal matter of attack he would have pinned it on Keilan without a moment's hesitation. Keilan had been cautious enough to cover his trail in that aspect, and it had proved more satisfying in the end. A broken Dwarf was more interesting than a mangled corpse, and he had picked up a little souvenir along the way._

_Fingering the Dwarven pocketknife with intrigue, Keilan paused a moment to study its craftsmanship It was worn but well kept, at least a decade old if not more. No master in the arts had created this piece, but it appeared to hold some sentimental value. That was another ill guarded trait that bewildered Keilan about Dwarves. He counted that they would trade their souls for a petty gem or dagger if it was part of their heritage, and he had indeed traded with a select few who had come rather close. _

_Humphing in curiosity, Keilan logged the note away for further consideration and tossed the knife into the air before tucking it back into his pocket. He should have used the Dwarf's own blade to shave his head, rather than his old penknife. Cruel justice carried out to the finish; it would have been perfect._

_Then there had been the matter of that other Dwarf. Thinking back to that day, Keilan admitted he had been rash in his impulsion. He had acted too soon after the first Dwarf had been dealt with, and while the despicable snob had been asking for trouble, the other one had not caused any manner of strife. Keilan had lost his head in the euphoria of his triumph, however, and had given no thought to the consequences before releasing Jag. _

_One felony against the Dwarves could be excused by the authorities as an ambush of thieves or the whim of several "anonymous" travelers who would never be seen or heard of again. Two attacks in the same day would raise suspicions, and only a steep bribe or the tentative process of layering the blame on another would save the criminal from his sentencing. Keilan knew would need to be more cautious from now on. As much as he despised it he would have to lay low for a few weeks, especially if the "perfect, chivalrous and humane" Logan began to guess his brother's involvement in the quarrel. _

_Yelon and Neilan would not betray him; not if they wanted to spare themselves from other condemning accusations Keilan could bring against them. With luck the crossbred was already dead, his manner of execution a warning against future conceited usurpers. The blond Dwarf had likely met his gruesome end as well, and all Keilan had to do was sink the remains in the mire and bring Jag home before anyone noticed the dog's absence After today there should be no further trouble with witnesses._

_ The tree filled bog soon eroded into a field of liquid soil and Keilan could go no further. He peered into the distance, scrupulously examining the deceptively calm landscape. Bitterly disappointed and worried for his pet, he jammed his hands into his pockets and turned to go back. _

_ In that momentary alteration of direction, Keilan noticed something out of the corner of his eye. His boots sloshed in the soggy grass as he whipped on his heels, squinting to make out what appeared to be the feathered end of an arrow sticking out of the mud. Apprehension held him immobile until his keen eyes sought out one of many fallen trees which could supply a makeshift bridge._

_ Hesitantly Keilan made the leap to the slick, parchment like trunk, flinging his arms wide as he balanced precariously on one foot. Regaining a secure position he cautiously set off, edging his way along the leathery bark with the grim knowledge that a slip in either direction could end in disaster. Slowly he crept forward, inching sideways foot by foot, until at last he wavered before his goal. Carefully he settled to a crouch and pulled at the wilted arrow, wincing at the pull of gravity indicating it had burrowed into flesh. _

_ Before he had pulled the carcass halfway out of the mire Keilan __**knew**__. Anger smoldered in his eyes as he viewed the frozen head captured in a gap toothed howl, and he gently snapped the arrow in half before allowing the body to sink completely into the bog. Hatred boiled in his veins and he squashed it down, allowing it to ferment into cold enmity. _

_ He would not allow the passion of his anger to overrule his thoughts; not this time. His mind would be clear for this final act, for he would not allow the murder of Jag to go unavenged. His adversary would rue the day he had ever been born._

_ There would be blood to pay._

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**Mh-hehehehe... Hehehehhe... Mua-hahahahah!**

**Oh, yes, it is all coming together. The Original Muse has plans ... (Evil!Grin)**


	6. Evening Draweth Nigh

**Bah! The Muse hates me for reasons I cannot reveal just yet, and the mini-muse hates my antagonist! They are not giving me much input for my inspiration. (Sulks)**

**Oh, well. Enjoy this chapter, and be sure to feed the Muses because if the mini-muse eats Keilan I will have no antagonist to finish this plot.**

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Sleep was a comfort of the past, for none was to be found in the Durin household. There were times when D_i_s and Thorin were both required at once, one restraining Fili during his convulsions and the other calming Kili as he writhed against the healer's administrations. Oin worked doggedly to bring down the lads' soaring temperatures, scarcely taking a moment to rest and close his eyes before he was required once more.

Both Fili and Kili suffered the ill effects of the frigid, wet night they had endured and it was difficult to gauge which of the two Dwarves needed the most attention. Fili frequently writhed in a panicked fit, screaming his brother's name and lashing out at the kind hands that sought to help him. Coherency was beyond him and Thorin often remained for hours by Fili's side, restraining him when the convulsions seized him and repeating the same empty assurances to his nephew's pleading that Kili be found at once. Sometimes Fili would not even recognize his presence, his gaze roving without coordination before he squeezed his eyes shut against the stabbing pain in his head and sank back into oblivion.

Kili, on the other hand, was uncharacteristically silent, lacking the strength to emit more than a strangled whimper as his body was wracked with chills. The left side of his jaw and cheekbone were swollen until that eye was sealed shut. Several of the smaller bones in his left hand were broken, and the muscles in his shoulders were twisted and wrenched from the manner in which he had been bound. A number of ribs were either cracked or badly bruised, but it was the darkening around his stomach and back that alarmed Oin the most.

He had seen similar wounds in the past, and as the night dragged into morning and the afternoon wore on he prayed his suspicions would prove false. There were few illnesses that could rival pneumonia and make it seem like a merciful death. If his diagnosis proved true he could only hope that the lad would pass in his sleep peacefully, for the torment he would endure was one Oin would not wish on his worst enemy.

Evening drew nigh, almost a full day having passed since Oin had been called for. The healer shook his head and regarded the clear, still night with reproach, chastising the full moon which shone with unrequited brilliance as though to mock the previous day's storm. With a sigh Oin pressed the back of his hand against Kili's hot, dry forehead, acknowledging with heavy spirits that the boy was not long for the world.

D_i_s had slumped onto the bed in a wearied slumber, her head pillowed on her arms and one hand grasping Kili's tightly as though her touch could tether his wandering soul and prevent him from journeying to realms where he could not return. Her brow furrowed and she murmured anxiously in her dreams, but Oin made no move to wake her. Perhaps it would be better for them all if the end passed in this manner. There would be no pain and no struggle; Kili would quietly slip from D_i_s' arms into Aulë's, and they would mourn in the bitter comfort that he would rest peacefully until they joined him in the afterlife.

Aulë help him, Oin did not know how they would break the news to Fili. For years he had watched Thorin's nephews grow and thrive, so alike in thought and mind that the span of five years between them could only have been counted as a day. He could not imagine the cataclysm of separating the brothers. Secretly Oin held his reservations that they might bury two instead of one this spring, and for this reason he would not reveal to D_i_s what frail thread of hope determined the fate of her youngest.

As though sensing his thoughts D_i_s slowly wakened, blinking in the light of the candles and forcing herself to straighten. She brushed her hair back with the heel of her palm and paused in a moment of confusion before turning to Oin.

"How long was I asleep?"

"A little more than an hour," he answered, wringing out a fresh cloth until it was just dripping and layering it across Kili's forehead.

D_i_s glanced towards the window and frowned, shivering involuntarily as a light breeze picked up. "Night already… Has he woken at all?"

Oin paused in his work, unwilling to answer her in all honesty. "No," he finally admitted, his shoulders slumping in grim acceptance.

"How long can he survive like this?" D_i_s resolute question called for no half spun lies of assurance to lighten the blow. She had sensed the spirit of dread shrouding the room and she would not be swayed from the truth. "_Oin_. How much longer?"

The healer sighed heavily and busied himself with his remedies. "Dehydration is a powerful foe. Combined with the difficulty he has breathing…"

Facing D_i_s with no intent of withholding the facts, Oin warned her gravely, "If he does not wake before morning… you must prepare yourself."

The blood rushed from D_i_s' face and a tremor ran through her, freezing her in place. With an effort of will she moved to limply run her fingers through Kili's hair, pausing at the severed ends with hands that trembled for the injustice.

"Will he suffer?"

Dread and despair rang true in her voice, but the blood of kings ran in her veins and D_i_s would not break. Oin could only stand back and admire her strength. Should Fili and Kili have inherited only a fraction of their Mother's resolve, they would have proved formidable warriors indeed.

"It may pass as a dream to him," he determined with a slight nod.

D_i_s closed her eyes tightly and rested her head on her trembling fist, and Oin felt like an intruder in the wake of her grief. He could only imagine the tumultuous thoughts running through D_i_s' mind, as a Mother faced the possibility of losing her child; her sweet youngest; the little one she had raised and cared for with a love unsurpassed by any other.

The death of Kili would do more than break her heart. A portion of her very being would be torn out and buried with him, and nothing in the world could ever fill the gaping, bleeding hole. Even if Fili would be there for her, a comforter and a fellow mourner, nothing could ever replace the radiant sunbeam that would be forever entombed in a dark cavern of stone.

Long minutes passed before D_i_s could bring herself to speak again, her voice quivering and laced with sorrow. "Fili will have to know."

He was caught off guard once more by her response. Oin could not grasp the inner courage that drove this woman onward. In the midst of her distress she focused not on her own pain, but that of her elder son. Such was the deep, internal resolution of a Mother that he could never begin to understand. Watching D_i_s hold fast in light of her heartache, Oin doubted that any could ever question her kinship to Thorin nor her descent as a true princess of the line of Durin. If only all warriors were this resolute in a crisis, many a disaster might have been averted.

"I will see to it that Thorin knows," Oin decided solemnly, granting D_i_s a few minutes to be alone.

D_i_s paid no regard to his words, lost in her own veil of darkness as she clung to Kili's hand, treasuring every last moment her son was alive and breathing. Often Oin had witnessed a family's mourning as a loved one was taken by sickness, the wounds of battle or the passage of time. As a physician it was his responsibility to detach himself to a point or else he would eventually lose his mind the constant overshadowing of sorrow. On this occasion, however, he would not spare himself the grief.

For all of Kili's silly questions as he explored with wide eyes a world that always appeared to be new, Oin had admired the boy's fathomless wonder that caused all around him to view their surroundings in a new light. Kili's unceasing clamor for one repetitive tale after another had taught his storytellers to remember those small, cheerful things that would have been overshadowed by the curse of the Dragon's fire. His outlandish schemes with Fili had enabled them all to laugh at one point or another - even if the victim in question boxed both boys' ears soundly and then rallied for D_i_s to scold the tyrants.

They would all sorely miss the lad, but it was Fili's absent shadow that would haunt them the most. Would the elder ever have cause to smile without his brother's mischievous grin goading him on? Would he fight with the same zealous determination without having that important someone to protect? Could he stand proudly as a Prince of Erabor should they ever journey to their long forgotten home, or would he fade into the Mountains until his spirit rejoined his brother in the Halls of Aulë?

Oin would have allowed his dismal musings to consume him had he the time, but as a healer there were priorities that he must see to first. His tread was silent and heavy as he passed under the lintel of Kili's door, and it seemed to Oin as though the shadow of death followed close in his wake. He shivered reflexively and quickened his pace.

In the dimness of Fili's room a bowed figure held silent vigil. Fingers calloused and worn from years at the forge entangled in dark hair streaked with silver, and for a moment it was not the exiled Prince of Erabor that Oin saw, but a King lost in the darkness of his own mind as his heirs and kin lay dying and he was helpless to intervene.

"Thorin?" Oin ventured quietly, breaking the silence with a cutting edge sharper than a whittler's knife.

Thorin startled and swerved to face the intruder, only to wince and put a hand to his neck when the muscles protested his sudden movement. He rose to his feet stiffly and checked to ensure Fili had not been disturbed before regarding the healer with dismay.

"Tell me there is good news, Oin."

If only he could have fulfilled such wishes without hesitation. Oin had no need to refute Thorin's request, however, for his silence alone told him everything.

Striding forward ardently, Thorin pulled Oin out of the room and closed the door firmly behind him before demanding in a shouted whisper, "Is there _nothing _more that can be done? Surely there is some remedy you have not attempted! I asked for a healer, Oin, not an undertaker! Do _not_ tell me there is no further hope when that is _my nephew_ whose life is in your hands!"

Oin breathed a long, frustrated sigh and allowed Thorin to finish his tirade. There was nothing more which could be done unless Kili were to wake in the next couple of hours, however, it would be useless to express his reasoning at this point. Better to allow Thorin to vent his anger now than for him to continue seething when D_i_s needed his sound judgement

"If you will accompany me, Thorin," Oin said gravely, a few calm words quelling the rage of the lionhearted swifter than a gust of wind could snuff the life from a candle. "You will want to be there." _Before it is too late._

Thorin's shoulders slumped and the fire in his eyes was smothered in dread. "Is he ...?"

"He is still with us." _For now._

Thorin pushed Oin aside with renewed determination, the frenzy in his eyes replaced with the grim fervency of the hopeless who know they have nothing to gain and yet strive ever onward, fighting for that brief glimmer of hope which they know will slip from their grasp ere the end.

"Take me to him."

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**One more chapter left for the dread of the unknown (though not for the end of the story). That is, ****_if_ the Muses will cooperate for once...**

**Oh! I almost forgot; Mhyin drew a fantastic piece of fanart for Chapter 4! Thrice-confounded link refuses to work, but look up her username on Deviant Art and look for the picture Today of All Days. (Mini-muse is fainting with happiness.) ;)**


	7. If Only to Forget

**Confounded thieving Muses! One minute they both abandon me, the next moment the Original Muse steals the chocolate covered coffee beans from Mini-muse and types up **_**one more **_**unanticipated chapter! Wasn't Kili supposed to either wake up or be dead by this time...?**

**I so need a vacation.**

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No words were needed to apprehend whimsical glints of hope. The bleak acceptance in Thorin's guarded expression was evidence enough that he would think twice before surrendering himself to a notion that was impossible. Hope was slipping like molten glass through a cracked mold, and neither supplications nor bribery would sway the shadow's call.

Thorin paused at the door and rested his fist on the water stained oak. He was not prepared for this. He had trained himself to be ready for any crisis; war, death, epidemics ... Never had he entertained the possibility that one day he might lose one of his nephews. The thought had been too dire to consider and he had put it out of his mind.

No child was intended to die before their elders. No father should be expected to bury his son.

The day before had started like any other and Thori nwas at a loss to how could it have ended in tragedy. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his fist, recalling every detail which had led up to that night.

He'd had a few errands to run in town; instructions for one of the new workers in the forges, the retrieval of a badger's hide that Fili had sent to the tanner's to be cured, a lengthy discussion with Balin over the recent trouble with Men in the town, a few odd supplies which D_i_s had requested, and the inspection and purchase of a trio of throwing knives he intended for Kili to put to good use.

Thorin had in no wise forgotten his nephew's birthday. How could he lose track when during every waking minute of the past week he had been hounded by his sister glowering at him across the table, or hissing in his ear that he had so many days before he faced the ultimatum of her wrath for his negligence, or lecturing him the minute he set foot outside the door to see to it he was home _before _dark instead of early the next morning. No, he had been given no opportunity for the occasion to slip his mind, and Thorin had succeeded admirably in finishing his tasks and returning by early afternoon.

By the time he had walked through the door the house was sparkling and D_i_s was in a royal fit. Fili and Kili were nowhere to be seen, and when D_i_s had gone into explicit detail how the morning had progressed Thorin was led to the assumption that Fili had caught up to his brother along the road and they had lingered in town together.

The steady rain swiftly deteriorated into a torrent, however, and D_i_s' worry increased by the hour. As much as he reasoned that a delay was reasonable given the weather, Thorin found himself pacing every time his mind began to wander. When evening began to tint the clouds he could wait no longer.

Three search parties of two Dwarves each were all that Thorin could muster to assist him in the bleak tempest. A brief inquiry among their own people revealed no sign of Fili or Kili, and Thorin trusted that his nephews had upheld enough common sense to remain in the village to wait out the storm.

He wished he had paid closer attention to his sister's intuition.

Thorin could remember the moment he found Kili and Fili as starkly as if he were still reliving that night. He could still hear the wrenching, forlorn wail that led him and Dwalin to leave their original course and follow the cry's echo until they found his nephews huddled together in the mire. He could taste the dread he felt upon seeing Kili's inert body, unable to fathom the possibility that they might be too late.

_He had not experienced this manner of sinking dread since Feanor had been slain. He spied his nephews an instant before Dwalin and uttered only a harsh bark of warning before racing ahead. His feet sloshed in the spreading lake and the icy waters hindered his movement, but Thorin did not register the slowing of his pace. The sole focus of his mind was the drenched, crumpled forms of his sister's sons._

_Terror rose up inside of him in a wave of adrenaline, clearing his mind with the sharpness of a blade even as his reasoning hazed with furious denial. Though Fili's back was to him, Thorin could see the wracking shudders coursing through his frame. There was no doubt in his mind whom his nephew mourned for. Crimson misted his vision and Thorin defied the whispered foreboding that warned him to prepare for a tragedy he __**would not**__ accept._

_Without further consideration he pushed Fili aside, too overcome with the need to assure himself that Kili was still breathing to pay closer attention to the erratic state of his other nephew. He did not anticipate a fight, however, and was caught off guard when a fist slammed into his jaw and dumped him backwards into the water. _

_Fili was shouting incoherently, sobs breaking his words as he held Kili tighter as though to protect him from further harm. Thorin glanced to Dwalin and nodded once. As the larger Dwarf grasped Fili under the arms and held him immobile Thorin scrambled to his knees and pulled Kili into his arms. Fili struggled like a wild animal in Dwalin's grip, kicking out and catching Thorin in the knee as he garbled nonsense and cried for his brother to be returned to him._

"_Fili! Control yourself!" Thorin shouted, using the only measure he knew to bring the situation under control. "We are trying to __**help**__ you!"_

_Instantly Fili slumped in Dwalin's hold, but whether it was from fear or the revelation that it was his family he fought against Thorin did take the time to decipher. Anxiously he prodded for the vein in Kili's neck, frozen in alarm until he felt a faint, slow beat against his fingertips. Kili's skin was icy to the touch, and if he breathed at all it was too faint to visibly recognize. Exchanging a horrified glance with Dwalin, Thorin whipped off his coat and wrapped it around his youngest nephew, scooping him up as though he were no more than a child of eighteen summers._

_A glance towards Fili caused a hand to close around his throat as he realized he was as likely to lose the elder as the younger. As Fili's head dipped onto his chest Thorin screamed for him to remain conscious, breaking his nephew out of his stupor in the only way he knew how._

"_Fili!" he shouted the moment Fili blinked awake, "Enough of this childish behavior!" _

_His words were harsh and Thorin would not defend himself otherwise. In this moment nothing mattered save getting both his nephews home alive, and he feared that the Kili's chances were rapidly dwindling._

"_Dwalin, get him up and keep him moving!"_

_There was no time for dawdling and Thorin did not hesitate long enough to ensure Dwalin was following him. Against the raging storm he strode on, the passion of his fervency outmatching that of the tempest as shrieking gusts of wind barraged him and the rain cascaded sideways in lancing pellets of sleet. _

_Kili lay as still as though he had already passed beyond Middle Earth's borders. Hues of shadowing bruises contrasted starkly with his pale features and only the urgency of his nephews' plight kept Thorin from dumping Kili into Dwalin's care and hunting down those who had harmed him __at once. __The cold had no effect on him now, for rage boiled in Thorin's veins until he thought he could murder with his gaze alone. Both his nephews were injured, one barely conscious and the other…_

_He no longer knew if Kili even breathed. Cradled in his arms like a sickly child, Kili had not so much as shivered since Thorin had found him. He knew well the effects of hypothermia, and Thorin refused to consider the likelihood that the cold alone might claim his nephew before they returned._

_The familiarity of this scenario struck him with aching nostalgia. Often in times past he had carried a much younger Kili home, Fili trotting along close at his side. Usually this took place after the rowdy child had a tumble, or wandered too far and was lost, or was too ill and had to be carried straight to Oin's infirmary, or was too tired from his adventures to walk home on his two feet. More often than not, however, Kili was happy just to have someone holding him and assuring him he was loved. He would crawl into Thorin's chair and curl up under his arm, promising "To be vewy quiet an' not bothowsome" ... until he decided that Thorin's scroll would make excellent drawing paper or fancied some other form of mischief._

_Memories barraged him of similar occasions and Thorin forced them down, clenching his jaw against the whispering doubts which plagued him with uncertainty as he __purposefully __lengthening his stride. He __**would not**__ allow this night to end in tragedy, no matter what manner of logic screamed that there was little chance. He would bring them home to D_i_s alive, and he defied any who would reason otherwise._

_Peals of thunder __roiled __like war drums, following dazzling bursts of white light that outlined each individual blade of grass. The clouds scorned him and Thorin looked to the sky and cursed the rains which strove relentlessly to drown the land. His cloak no longer provided any form of dry shelter nor warmth for his nephew. Water once more trickled down Kili's frozen cheeks and collected rainwater streamed in rivulets from his sodden clothes. What little time they had was swiftly dwindling, and every moment that passed was emblazoned into Thorin's mind with excruciating clarity._

_He would forget, if he could, the agonizing trek home. The taunting voice of realism mocked the futility of Thorin's efforts with every flash of lightning that illuminated Kili's slack features. Ever more the terrible dread rose inside of him; that he was hastening only to return the body of his nephew for a proper burial. Memories of Frerin and of his sister's husband bombarded him and Thorin shouted his outrage to the storm. He would __**not**__ lose another this night. He __**would **__see to it that Kili lived, and he would __**not **__fail his sister. _

_Mahal help them, they had all suffered too much grief already. He would not permit another loss to scar his sister forever. He would bring both of her boys safely home._

_..._

Thorin would not accept that death was imminent not after Kili had lingered on the brink for so long and stubbornly refused to let go. His nephew was a fighter; he would not give in until life was ripped shred by shred from his clenched fingers. This quiet passing was surely a dream that Oin had conjured, for in Thorin's memory no heir of the line of Durin had experienced so peaceful a slip into eternity. They died as warriors; heroes slain in battle or overcome by the aftermath of their wounds.

This was not the end; Thorin refused to allow it. He had sought his nephews out in the storm, watched them struggle to cling to life, and done everything within his power to ensure their survival; he would not only to stand by helplessly as they wasted away before his eyes.

The fire rekindled in his gaze and Thorin squared his shoulders, his expression grim and determined as he grasped the door handle to push it back.

The barrier was flung open before he could move. D_i_s stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and furtive as she looked straight through Thorin, frantically seeking another.

"Oin, I need you in here! _Hurry!_"

...

Before the healer could respond Thorin barged past his sister, striding forward like a man possessed until he dropped to his knees by Kili's head. Oin hurried after him with practiced surety, already assuming the worst.

He had never been so delighted to admit he was wrong.

Dazed, murky dark eyes blinked slowly in the dim light of the candles and a wince of discomfort creased the bruised forehead. Oin drew in a sharp, quiet breath, relief mingled with surprise as he hastened to assess his patient, motioning for Thorin to clear the way. He received a grunt and a fierce glower in response to his intrusion, and Oin might have protested the recent impolite treatment of healers had it not been for the unbridled joy shining in Thorin's eyes as he turned back to Kili and gently stroked the matted hair away from his nephew's face.

Kili watched the proceedings with uncertainty, aware of his surroundings yet unable to share in the relief. His gaze flitted from Thorin to D_i_s and back to Thorin again, searching the room for that one presence he longed for most. Split and dry lips could not form the name, but it did not take a wizard to surmise his desire.

"Fili is not hear, darling," D_i_s whispered, tears glimmering in her eyes despite her tired relief. "He is resting. You will see him as soon as you are well enough."

Kili struggled to respond, only for panic to light in his eyes. His throat convulsed spasmodically as he attempted to swallow, fear and pain lancing across his gaze as he frantically looked to Thorin and D_i_s for answers.

"Oin!" D_i_s barked, whirling to face the healer even as Thorin leapt to his feet and braced his hands against Kili's shoulders. A breathless whine escaped Kili and he kicked out and writhed under Thorin's grasp, his eyes roving in frenzied anguish as he searched agitatedly for something he could not name.

The fever-driven desire was not unanticipated on Oin's part; he had already prepared a remedy for that very reason should Kili awaken. It was violent reaction that gave him cause for alarm. The agony from his struggles must have encompassed Kili as he bucked like a wild animal against Thorin's cautious restraint, yet the fevered prince paid his injuries no heed. It proved the body's desperate need for the life-sustaining liquid that had been denied for too long; Kili had already reached a dangerous stage of dehydration. Oin knew the next few hours would be miserable for the lad, and pity rose up inside him as he hastened forward with a small dosage of medicine that would only be considered a droplet in the well of the boy's thirst.

Wrenching his jaw open despite the stiff and swollen muscles, Kili threw himself towards the cup in Oin's hand. Herb-steeped water trickled out the corner of his mouth as he gulped down the meager offering, gasping and choking against the burn of his sore throat even as he panted for more. Wretched eyes pleaded with Oin and the healer's heart was rent in two as he was forced to deny the simple request.

"Not yet," he whispered to Thorin as the Dwarf looked to him with mingled horror and accusation. "Too much at once will kill him; give him a few moments to hold this down."

A harsh whine was torn from Kili at the refusal and he sought out D_i_s instead. She crumbled in an instant and swerved to face Oin, silently begging that he relent and cease tormenting her son. He could only shake his head in remorse and repeat his orders. Kili let out a strangled cry and thrashed against Thorin's hold, his right hand scrabbling at the covers as he fought to escape the torture as his body screamed for water.

Oin found himself counting the seconds and he finally ignored his own healer's creed, pouring a second dosage after half the space of time he should have taken to ensure Kili's body would not reject the first. Kili's swollen tongue darted out to lap the corner of his lips in anticipation and he lurched to meet the cup halfway, spilling half the dosage in his fervency and yearning for more.

"Give it time," Oin grunted between clenched teeth, forcing himself to remain impassive to the lad's cries as Kili's thirst roared up within him like a dry riverbed devouring the first sprinklings of rain after a severe drought.

The prince deserved none of this heartless treatment, but it was cruelly necessary. Too much water after prolonged dehydration would kill him as surely as the lack thereof. Such was the extent of Kili's injuries that Oin had not expected him to ever open his eyes again, and he would not take further chances.

They were in for a battle, for no triumph could be won over so dire an illness without a battle. Against all odds Kili had tenaciously held on, clawing his way back to life with that stubborn, rebellious streak that had so often frustrated D_i_s to no end. Now it was their turn; they would fight for him when Kili's strength failed him, carrying him through until death claimed him or _Aulë _granted them mercy. Now that they at last had a fleeting chance, Oin would not let it slip from his fingers.

He would not allow the boy to die this night. By whatever means necessary, no matter how agonizing they might be, he would find a way to save him.

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**Yes, all my wonderful readers who are so generous in their food donations and reviews: you may keep your poor, battered Prince of Durin for a little while longer. Maybe or maybe not until the end of the story, but …. Well, a little longer at least. XD**

**'Sigh' I was sorely tempted to turn this into a deathfic and leave my reviewers in tears. Alas, the Oroginal Muse loves the idea but the Mini-muse scorns it. Seeing as we need a tie-breaker, I prefer NOT to have my reviewers kill me. **

**So make sure and leave a review - I will be hiding behind a 'DON'T KILL THE AUTHOR' sign while the Original Muse reads through them. Seeing as the Original Muse has officially decided the next course of the story ... well, just don't disappoint it, okay? ;D**


	8. Together

It was truly a battle for Kili's life now. The bruising on his stomach had blossomed into an angry blackish-purple and by midnight Oin's premonitions were confirmed. Such was the extent of damage that Kili could only take the smallest dosages of liquid in any form. Any more than a few spoonfuls at a time was instantly rejected by his trampled stomach, and what little fluids Kili could hold down were robbed from him by fever and blood loss from the constant upheavals.

Hours crept by in agonizing suspense as he drifted between fevered delirium and a rabid frenzy, fighting off his family one moment to reach the precious water and the next moment curling in himself to avoid the life-saving liquid. With what little strength he had left Kili begged for rest, imploring that he felt as though a fire was devouring him from the inside and he could not bear any more pain. Betrayal shimmered in his dark eyes when Thorin held him in place so that Oin could pour another draught down his throat, only for the liquid to force its way between his clenched teeth minutes later.

D_i_s' assistance was invaluable. Where Thorin's commands would have accomplished little good, she cajoled her son with gentle words and supplications. Kili calmed at her touch, accepting the bitter medication with the docility of a lamb when his Mother pleaded quietly that he allow Oin to help him. Though tears sprang to Dis' eyes whenever Kili lost the battle with nausea and cried out for the agony wracking his body, she never once left his side nor allowed her weakness to show through.

Once more, however, doubts plagued Thorin that their combined efforts would not be enough to hold back the tides of the grave. Though Kili's return to consciousness might have brought them a shred of hope, he ever slipped towards the darkness once more. Misty, stricken eyes begged silently for an alleviation to his anguish, for it was evident that Kili was keenly aware of every torturous moment.

Oin no longer offered any facade of optimism. "All is in the hands of Mahal," was the only comfort he could give.

Thorin's only solace was that by some miracle Kili had escaped pneumonia. Oin also expressed his gratefulness for this small mercy, as he did not expect that the young Dwarf would have survived another onslaught under his current duress. The healer only shook his head in wonder, for even so he admitted he was astounded that Fili and Kili had both avoided the dreaded disease.

"The fates must have another purpose for them," was his only explanation.

Thorin might have disagreed, for any thoughts of supplicating to higher powers had been abandoned after the destruction of Erabor and the slaughter in Moria. In this case, however, as Kili stubbornly clung to the fraying threads of life when all else warred against him, he almost might have silently assented with Oin's words. Even so he remained on his guard, and while D_i_s' hopes rose and fell with her son's fever, Thorin's only assurance for himself was to wait for the news of morning.

Dawn bled slowly into the horizon in remnants of cloud and waning light. Still Kili breathed, and still Oin refrained from offering any solid promise that he would remain with them long. Though Kili had quieted during the night, his fever was yet too high and his body too frail to stave off the illness in this state. Oin could not linger with them, however, for another Dwarf sickened by the recent change of weather was due to give birth weeks before her time, and he had been forced to make the decision between two patients.

"There is little more I can do here which you cannot," Oin had assured gravely as he laid out the remedies he had prepared beforehand and instructed Thorin and D_i_s as to the proper dosages. "Give him as much water as he can hold at a time, no matter how he protests. Force it down his throat if you must; you will do him no favor if you relent. In a matter of life and death as this, you can afford to take no chances."

"I understand," D_i_s had responded with calm regality.

Her steadfast courage in the face of death had brought a touch of a smile to Thorin's lips, and he was proud to acknowledge that it was _his _little sister who was reacting to the crisis like a commander dedicated to the survival of her people by any means. Like a shield of mithril; graceful yet impenetrable; the qualities of her inner strength remained hidden under the tender and gentle nature of a Mother devoted to her children.

Now, as grey streaked the horizon in promise of another bleak and deceivingly serene afternoon, Thorin leaned against the doorway to Kili's room and watched with simmering tension as D_i_s coaxed her son to take another few sips of water. He could not stand the helpless waiting as nephew languished in agony. A part of him yearned to flee the close confines of the house and pound a bar of iron until it was flattened and useless, while another, deeper part of him declared without hesitation that he would never leave his nephew's side until the bitter end. Through the wasted minutes, as his blood boiled within him and he yearned to serve justice to those who had harmed his nephews, Thorin remained. Even to the last agonized moment, he would not abandon them.

"Mum..." A sob wrenched free and Kili's hand curled into a fist as the slightest movement, a flinch spasming across his face as his swollen tongue fumbled for the right words. "Mum... _please_."

"Kili, just one small sip for me; not even a mouthful, I promise." Though sorrowful tears shone in her eyes D_i_s bit back the frantic tinge in her voice, unable to afford the slightest allusion of her loss of control when her youngest was so fragile.

Kili longingly sought out the tantalizing, shimmering liquid, unconsciously wetting his lips with his tongue before he shook his head minutely and lowered his eyes. He attempted to move away, only to stifle a sound of frustration when his twisted arms would not move at his command. The constant shivers of torment coursing through his body formed a deep furrow in Kili's brow and when Thorin saw the droplets of moisture gathering in his nephew's eyes he could remain in the vicinity no longer.

Thorin could not offer Kili neither the pity nor consolence which D_i_s managed so proficiently. At the same time, neither could he stand uselessly and observe. He must act or else go mad, and Thorin had waited for too long now. If this silent waiting game continued for much longer he feared it would drive him to actions he would later regret.

His strides were heavy and driven with purpose, his fists clenched until his nails dug crescent grooves into his palms. Thorin hesitated by Fili's door and nodded shortly to Balin, pausing for a moment to regard his nephew's state. He was grateful for Balin's offer to stay with Fili while both he and D_i_s were occupied with Kili's awakening. It was an arrangement Thorin never wished to have need of again, and he prayed it would not last for long. It was enough for Kili's life to border the edge without the constant worry of losing Fili as well.

"How is he?" Thorin inquired in a rough, husked voice. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, exhaustion playing tricks on his mind as he thought for a moment that he caught the ghost of movement across Fili's still expression.

"He woke, once," Balin nodded with a pleased smile. "Drank the entire dosage Oin left for him, and then dropped right off to sleep again. I believe he will be fine, Thorin. He is a strong lad; the worst appears to be behind us."

Immeasurable relief caught Thorin off guard and he wavered in the doorway. He hoped that a stupid smile was not plastered on his face, for his emotions were toying with his sleep-deprived state and he did not trust the repercussions.

"I need to ..." Thorin flexed his hands agitatedly and edged out of the room, the harried desire to pulverize something overwhelming his control. "There is a matter at the forges I must see to," he excused himself with a curt nod. "Can you assist D_i_s should she require it?"

Balin regarded him with cool perception, seeing through Thorin's guise in an instant but wisely refraining from mentioning so. "My brother determined that he would mind the forges in your absence," he reminded kindly.

Thorin did not respond to the bait, regarding Balin with stoic silence. He was loathe to retreat in this hour and despised the frail temper of his forefathers. At the same time the constant worry chaffed at him and if he did not leave for a short period of time he was certain the turmoil within him would snap and he might unleash further devastation on the fragmented household. "Tell D_i_s I will not be long."

He spun on his heel in a hasty departure, only to halt a second later as though he had walked into an invisible wall.

"Unc'?"

Thorin drew in a shaky breath and almost bolted into Fili's room upon hearing the reedy, thin voice call his name. In three strides he was inside the doorway, pushing past Balin and hastening to Fili's side. With a hint of bemusement Balin surrendered his chair, pausing a moment to regard the two Dwarves fondly before slipping away to give them a moment alone. Gingerly Thorin settled himself into the chair, stiffened muscles in his knees and back protesting the constant vigilance of the past two nights. He offered a wane smile of relief as disconcerted blue eyes met his own.

"We thought we would lose you," he said wearily. Years of tension seemed to roll off his shoulders with the knowledge that one of his nephews might be on the mend, and all considerations of losing himself in the forges appeared a distant and petty dream.

Fili opened his mouth to respond and then quietly looked away. He appeared lost and distant, his eyes morose as he idly watched the branches of a nearby willow tap against the open shutters. Thorin understood that a languid response might be anticipated after two days of illness, yet he felt a stab of alarm at his nephew's distinct lack of response.

"Fili?" he questioned gently, urging the boy to look in his direction.

Fili winced slightly but made no other response, and Thorin was baffled at his lack of communication. Fili appeared to be mindful of his surroundings - even more so than Kili had been when he had first awakened - and yet there was no indication he had understood a word Thorin had said. Oin might have a reasonable explanation for this behavior; perhaps a remnant of the blow to Fili's head had temporarily rendered him speechless. Until the healer returned, however, Thorin remained at a loss for how to continue.

"Your Mother has been worried for you," he attempted with a sigh.

At last he obtained his desired reaction. Fili violently cringed and drew a shuddering breath as though to compose himself. "I'm sorry ..." he whispered in a ragged croak, "I did not mean to cause her further pain."

Bafflement gave way to clueless bewilderment and Thorin paused for a moment to muddle through his nephew's statement. How severe was this concussion that Fili had sustained? Abstract apologies were a trait Thorin might have associated with Kili on the rare occasion, but never with his eldest nephew. Perplexed beyond reason now, he made a poor attempt at easing whatever fears were haunting Fili.

"Her concern for you should be ... expected ..." Thorin fumbled, cursing Balin for leaving him in such an awkward moment of crisis. "... It was no fault of your own. She - would be - here now ..."

If he had told D_i_s that her son was awake she surely would have run to Fili's side in an instant, however, Thorin had the impression that at this moment Kili needed her presence more. He could handle Fili for the time being; there was no need to disturb his sister now that her youngest had finally quieted.

"She is with your brother," Thorin finally concluded. He scratched the back of his head, too caught up in the agony of his summarizing to notice his nephew's harsh flinch and the tears that gathered in Fili's eyes.

"I can call her if you wish," Thorin offered hesitantly. Only now did he look up, concern jolting through him as he saw the abject misery in Fili's expression before his nephew turned away.

"N-no," Fili stammered, clenching his pillow in a tight-fisted grip as he curled into himself with his back to Thorin. "Sh-she should stay with ..." He broke off abruptly, shuddering in the effort to rein in his emotions. Thorin rose to his feet in alarm and Fili called out frantically, "I'm - I'm fine! Just ..." Once more he cut off his words with a loud sniff, adding in an anguished whimper, _"I'm sorry_!"

"Fili, what in Durin's name is going on?" Thorin tentatively reached a hand to Fili's shoulder and his nephew jolted as though he had been struck.

With a strangled, muted cry Fili tucked his face into his knees and placed one arm over his face, burrowing deep within his own hidden sanctuary as he whispered brokenly, "Just go, Uncle ... _please_."

Thorin knew not what catastrophe had taken place that had caused his nephew to close in on himself so, but he did not intend to leave the room without answers. "_Fili_!" he barked, years of strict commandeering pounded into one calm order, "_Tell me what has happened_."

Stricken blue eyes met his own as Fili reluctantly turned to face him. Though his nephew bit down on his lip until blood was drawn, tears overflowed their walls of containment and a sob broke through as he whispered, "I'm sorry! It's all my fault, Uncle!"

"_What_ is your fault?" Thorin demanded. Was it the injuries that Kili had sustained that Fili blamed himself for? He had been wounded himself; surely he did not consider that he alone should be held accountable for whatever had taken place.

"I ... he ... I - I wasn't there!" Upon his admission Fili instantly broke down. Deep, wracking sobs coursing through him and with a wrenching cry he slammed his fist against the table next to him as though the pain could wipe away the jagged scars buried deep within.

Thorin breathed a curse and pulled his nephew away before he could cause himself any further harm. Fili instinctively sought out whatever frail sense of comfort he could find, clinging to Thorin's vest until his Uncle settled down on the edge of the bed. Wishing now more than ever that he had called for D_i_s' expertise, Thorin absently rubbed circles into Fili's shoulder in a hapless attempt at comforting him. Fili did not seem to care whether or not Thorin could replicate D_i_s' consolence, however; to have someone near who would not turn him away seemed to be enough.

"Fili," Thorin inquired in a gentler tone after his nephew's cries began to subside, "What happened?"

His voice wavered with pent-up emotion as Fili answered wretchedly, "I ... I tried to find him, Uncle. I went - I thought he would - It was his birthday, and ... and I - I wanted to surprise him!" He crammed his fist against his teeth and bit down on his knuckles, fighting for control.

"I tried so hard!" he whispered hopelessly, tears streaming afresh as he shook his head. "I didn't know, Uncle, Mahal help me _I didn't know..._"

Quieter sobs shuddered through him and Fili hid his face in the crook of his elbow, shamed for his tears and a revelation too cruel to speak. Thorin was beginning to understand.

"It was not your fault," he assured firmly. "You were never to be held to blame."

"But ... but I wasn't there," Fili objected. He sniffed hard and lifted his head, his eyes wrought with despair. "There - there was the dog, and then I thought he would like the bow, but - but it doesn't even matter anymore, because I lost it, and he can't even use it anymore, can he, Uncle? It was such a _useless _present! I - I - " His words broke off in a ravaged wail and he pounded his fist into the coverlets. "He's _gone _and it's _all my fault!"_

Suddenly his nephew's distance made perfect sense. Sympathy flooded him as Thorin recognized the source of Fili's agony and he leaned back with a sorrowful shake of his head.

"Is that what you have assumed?" he chided gently, realizing how easily he could have eased his nephew's tribulation. "You believe that Kili is dead."

Fili's choked, pleading whimper was answer enough. It was a silent, hopeless cry for forgiveness that could not be obtained; a wish cast upon broken sands for a life that would never be returned. How long had Fili endured the condemning certainty that his brother was forever taken from him?

"Come," Thorin ordered softly, rising to his feet and assisting his nephew to walk alongside him. "There is something you should see."

...

Parchment dry lips parted as Kili panted faintly for breath, lacking the strength to draw in the deep gulps of air that his body craved. He ran his tongue over the rise of his swollen mouth, tasting iron and longing for even the tainted, rusty water used to cool metal at the forges. His mouth felt like an arid tomb, foul with the taste of his own blood and dryer than parchment.

Even with his eyes closed Kili could picture the tall pitcher of fresh river water resting on a low table nearby. Every nerve screamed for just a droplet of the moisture and he whimpered softly in despair, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and trying desperately to put the thought out of his mind. Even now his stomach clenched painfully and he squeezed D_i_s hand in a bruising grip as fire licked across his back and his insides were torn to pieces.

_Just one swallow... nothing more than that. Surely a small spoonful would not be too much to ask?_

It felt as though a mule were kicking him in the stomach over and over and he let out a faint moan, the sound reedy and scarcely discernible even to his ears. D_i_s' hand ran over his brow and he leaned into her touch, yearning for affection like a neglected child.

"Mum…?" he lisped, barely able to rasp the single word past his dry and ragged throat.

"Shh. I'm here, Kili." She caressed his forehead, her hand wonderfully cool against his burning skin. He tried to swallow but could not gather enough saliva for that simple feat.

"…F-Fee?"

"Your Uncle is with him, Kili. Shhh. Try to rest."

He could hear the strangled note in his Mother's voice although she tried bravely to appear in control. For a moment Kili wondered if he was dying; slowly, agonizingly aware of each second that passed by, until his thirst became a ravenous _need _and he felt life slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers.

Sand. Like the lake where he and Fili had learned how to swim. So much clear, enticing water; flooding his mouth as he leaped into its sparkling depths and let it sweep his tangled hair away; its cool embrace soothing his fever and numbing the pain, quenching his voracious thirst until...

_"Kili!"_

The vision shattered and in his mind he cried out for the loss. D_i_s was shaking him; imploring him to stop frightening her and open his eyes. He wanted to voice his agony and scream for the mountains to hear, but such mercy was denied him and he could do no more than silently endure as his body was consumed with fire and the black haze of unconsciousness was torn from his grasp.

"Kili, _please._ Open your eyes for me, Kili!"

He knew it hurt his Mother when he was stubborn and rebellious, but he did not want to obey her this time. He wanted to drown himself in the crystal ocean of his dreams and never have to rise to the surface. To be able to swim freely in the dazzling teal waves, breathing water as freely as air as his pain was erased by the soothing currents; surely that would be eternal paradise.

Tantalizing moisture trickled down his throat and he gulped for more, the world of sunlight and turquoise waters shattering into a kaleidoscope of knifing shards as he was dragged back to consciousness by his own instinctive desire.

"Shh... That's right. Come back to me, Kili. Do not leave me now, sweetheart."

Visions of the lake set afire by the waning light of the sun vanished as daggers stabbed into Kili's skull and torso. Instinctively he twisted away from the pain, coughing weakly and releasing an aching cry as his stomach cramped against the intrusive medications. A mug clattered against the table and D_i_s' arms were instantly around him, supporting him through the choking fit as he struggled not to retch. His abdomen screamed in protest and his throat was torn to pieces, and everything _burned_ as though a forge had been lit within him.

All through the torturous spasms D_i_s held him close. When the last of the sharp pains receded Kili slumped against her, gasping for breath and grinding the heel of his palm against the coverlets in frustration. He was so tired of it all; the constant muscle spasms; the ever present ache like a hammer was striking him with malicious appeal; the bitter taste in his mouth that could only be washed away by the renewal of more pain. Mahal help him he did not want to die, but how he longed for _some_ means to put an end to this unceasing torment.

"_Shhhh_. Rest for a while, Kili. I am here."

He closed his eyes and yearned for the ebbing tides of sleep which had been denied him so long. Ever more the world of dreams evaded his grasp and tears sprang unbidden to his eyes for sheer desperation.

D_i_s caught the hitch in his ragged breathing and ran her fingers through his hair, untangling the ratted snarls with gentle care. She purposely avoided the patch where Keilan had sheared the dark locks away and Kili squeezed his eyes tightly shut as though he could burrow into a dark corner and hide from the mortification. His Mother would never admit it were he to ask, but Kili frequently wondered in the endless passage of time whether she shared his revulsion when she fingered the torn strands. He did not know how he could carry on the bearing of a prince among those outside these four walls, but to not know whether he would be considered a mark of shame to his family was unbearable. They would not reveal the truth to him if he confronted them; they would hide it under a facade and Kili would endure months and perhaps years of _not knowing_ if he was accepted even among his own kin, and this was perhaps the worst thought of all.

_"When you return to your family, Dwarf - if they will take back such weak, pitiful scum as you - you tell them this: That it was I, Keilan son of Droad, who was your bane."_

Anger and hurt carved a well of misery so deep that Kili could not measure its depths. The fingers of his uninjured hand curled into claws and he blinked back droplets that testified of a helpless rage so finely ingrained it could not be spoken forth in words alone.

He would have to face Keilan again; there was no other way. Kili vowed he would challenge his enemy and a hundred of Keilan's followers again and again until he regained his honor. Only in victory could he move past this humiliation; only then could he walk among his people with pride.

D_i_s' hand stilled in his hair and she gasped softly, uttering one word that ground Kili's world to a halt in one exhilarating moment.

"Fili! What are you doing here?"

Kili's eyes shot open and through a sheen of mist he saw his brother standing in the doorway. Fili was leaning heavily against Thorin's shoulder and he reeled where he stood, his gaze fixated on Kili and his jaw slack in disbelief. Cerulean orbs shed renewed tears and with a cry Fili lurched forward, abandoning his Uncle's support as he stumbled to reach his brother.

In spite of his own misery Kili could not hold back a wistful grin. It seemed to him as though the sun had broken free of his visions and split the clouds darkening the future's horizon. Though his arms could not support him he wriggled to meet Fili nonetheless, sobbing in relief as he collapsed against his brother's shoulder.

Suddenly Kili was yanked into a crushing hug, his breath squeezed from him in a rush as Fili clung to him like there would never be another day. Kili gaped uselessly against the pressure and rasped a protest at the aggravation to his wounds. He tapped one hand weakly against Fili's shoulder as an indication for his brother to ease his grip, only to fall still in puzzled concern as he recognized the sound of muffled, desperate weeping.

Fili was crying.

He did not dare move in that instant, and Kili forced himself to draw shallower, slower breaths as he listened more intently to the sharp, punctuated sobs coming from his brother.

"...Fili?" he whispered uncertainly, swallowing raggedly past the dryness in his throat.

Fili only tightened his grip, his hands fisting in Kili's shirt as he rocked back and forth, making that terrible keening sound that had haunted his dreams. In bewilderment Kili sought out D_i_s and Thorin, thrice as confused when they held back and observed the scene with mingled gratitude and caution. D_i_s' eyes sparkled with joy and even Thorin's eyes were damp, and with a pained grunt Kili resigned himself to his fate.

His bruised ribs could not stand the pressure for long, however, and through clenched teeth he was forced to beg for release. "F-Fili...?"

D_i_s swept to the rescue at once, releasing Fili's tenacious hold with a skill Kili could not track. All he could comprehend was that one moment he was struggling to breathe and the next he was safely nestled in the pillows once more, Fili fervently clinging to his uninjured right hand and apologizing so profusely that Kili worried he would bite his own tongue off in his frenzy.

The tear tracks never once diminished on Fili's expression and Kili felt a pang of guilt as he realized how deeply his illness had affected his brother. "How... long...?" he wondered, his gaze flitting towards the mug on the table before he forced himself to look away. _How long was I unconscious? Was I that close to death that you should react so fearfully?_

Fili's eyes were bloodshot and rimmed in shadow, wearied from the dreaded weights of a tragedy he had held himself accountable for up till now. For a moment he could only drink in the sight of his brother _alive, _breathing and speaking with him as though the tendrils of the grave had not coiled around him to tear him away from all who held him dear. Fili swallowed convulsively and found he could no longer meet Kili's tormented, vulnerable gaze. He should never have allowed this to happen.

"Wa'n't your fault." The chapped murmur was barely discernible, but Fili froze in denial all the same.

"Don't say that," Fili insisted, his eyes blazing with guilt as he stared out the open window and cursed the fates upon himself. "You ... you _died_ in my arms, Kili. I ... I lost you that night."

He could not prevent the whimper that sounded in his throat and Fili dared not meet his brother's gaze. "I should have been there," he whispered dejectedly. "It was your birthday, and I ... I should have ..."

Fili bit down hard on his lip and would not finish. A light huff of air sounded from Kili in response.

"Shu-shuddup," Kili muttered with a wane, forced smile. "Was my fault... shouldn'ta been stupid in the tav'rn..."

For a moment all other matters seemed of no importance save the dark sense of injustice that rose up in Fili at his brother's words. "Who did this to you, Kili? Who was it?"

Kili's eyes shifted to the side and the seconds crawled agonizingly by. "I ... don't know..." he said in a quiet voice, a shadow passing across his face.

Fili sensed at once that something was amiss, but he could not press his brother further; not in this state. Unconsciously Kili ran his tongue along his bleeding, cracked lips, his gaze listless and unperceiving. Without a word Fili grasped the mug sitting close by and settled himself onto the bed, sitting right beside his brother and gently drawing Kili back until he could rest against him.

D_i_s' flinched as though to interfere, and with a pleading expression Fili begged, "Can I stay with him? Please, just for a little while?"

D_i_s hesitated and looked to Kili, only to smile tiredly and shake her head when she saw the same unspoken request in her youngest's eyes. "For a little while," she promised. "I will be right here if you need me."

A smile broke through Fili's drying tears and he wrapped his arm around Kili's shoulders, loosening his grip with a stammered, "Sorry!" when his brother winced. Kili appeared content with the arrangement, however, cautiously accepted two gulps from the offered mug before shaking his head and allowing his eyelids to slide closed.

Fili did not dare look away, fearing that his brother would vanish a moment later and he would wake in his own bed, alone once more with no one to blame but himself. Without watching his arm he settled the mug back in the general direction of the bedside table, nearly capsizing the pottery before D_i_s darted forward and scooted it back. Her orders for him to rest were lost to Fili, for he reveled only in the knowledge that his little brother was _alive_, and no matter what happened next, Fili would never leave him alone again.

He did not intend to close his eyes for an instant, however, against Fili's will sleep pulled him under and he was lost to the world, his arm tucked securely around his brother and his cheek resting on Kili's head.

D_i_s' own emotions were barely suppressed and her heart was rent within her as she watched her boys fall into a peaceful slumber, safe and sound in one another's arms as they should be. The overwhelming relief was a blow to shatter the last of her reserves, and with a choked sob she collapsed into the chair and relinquished herself to the turmoil amassed from her doubts, her fears and her grief. Thorin's arms enfolded her and she did not hold back, her joy undiminished for her tears as she offered her heartfelt thanks to the One who had spared her two sons.

* * *

_It was late in the afternoon by the time he found his oaken staff poking out of the muddied remnants of the path. Fury and dread curdled within him as he realized that his victim had been set free. Whether the Dwarf was still alive or not Keilan could not say, but he knew that should the drowned rat live his own life would be in jeopardy. He had been a __**fool**__ to tell the Dwarf his name, and he berated himself for his lack of foresight. If by any chance the two Dwarves came together to testify against him, Keilan could expect no help against the authorities. The officials could be bribed, yes, but few were willing to risk a war when enough evidence was laid up against the criminal. He would have to finish the job before the wretched scum had a chance to testify against him._

_Keilan fingered the snapped end of the arrow which had murdered Jag as he contemplated his next course of action. He now had two separate quarries to hunt down. This was **not** how he had planned his impromptu strike. The Dwarves should have died on that night, buried under the rains until neither their own people nor the authorities could pin down the one responsible for their demise. Keilan had been clumsy in his efforts, and now he was paying the price. He would have to hunt down both individuals and wipe them off the face of Middle Earth. There was no other choice left to him; he would have to carry out their death sentence himself._

_Resigning himself to a grim and arduous task, Keilan swiped the worst of the mud off his staff and planted it into the roadside to mark the territory. It would be a gruesome and fitting conclusion if he were to bury the dark haired swine in its previously intended grave. The blond one would be dealt with more ... slowly. The viscous attack on Jag would not be forgotten, and the murderer's screams would haunt the Blue Mountains for years to come._

_Even as he considered these things an outline in the mud caught Keilan's shrewd gaze, and he knelt in curiosity and fingered a curved sprig of wood poking from the congealing sludge. With a sticky squelch he pulled free a Dwarven bow. His light brown eyes dulled a burnished copper and he angrily flicked muck from his fingertips, recognizing at once the fletched end of a single arrow poking out from the spot where he had retrieved the bow. _

_So, then; his separate victims had indeed met up along the road. Whether they lived or not Keilan had no way of knowing. He would not rest until he knew for certain. _

_Testing the bow's dexterity and admiring the craftsmanship that appeared so small and insignificant in his large hands, Keilan nodded his approval and retrieved the single arrow to clean off properly once he returned home. _

_"Those who live by the sword shall also die by it," he quoted with a twisted smile, touching his fingertips to the intricate pocketknife he had retrieved from the dark haired rat. _

_He would indeed deliver speedy justice, just as he had promised, and he would carry it out with the Dwarves' own weapon of choice._

* * *

**So much to fit into one chapter!**

**The Muses outdid themselves writing this lengthy chapter in a 2-day deadline, and they are too tired to express their proper thanks for the food and reviews offered for the last update. The author thanks the reviewers instead, and apologizes ahead of time that she allowed the Original Muse to have caffeine when they conspired over an extra-extra peppermint double-shot iced coffee... **

**I do anticipate a few threats against my poor, hapless Muses by the time they are finished with this story. :/ Please remember not to kill the author who is forced to type out their viscous, evil plans.**


	9. Strategize

Wood shavings sifted lightly to the floor, the growing mound of slivers filling the room with cedar fragrance. Fili critically appraised his work, fingering the rough, grainy texture of the bow and judging its weight and balance. The curve of the bow was light but durable, good for a swift draw with a longer range than Kili's previous weapon. It had yet needed to be sanded before Fili could carve the final details, but he was confident that by the time he was finished it would be weapon that Kili would be proud of.

The minute his thoughts flitted back to his brother Fili _thunked_ his knife into the floor beside him and leaned his head back in agitation. Shortly after he had learned that Kili was still alive a monster of a cold had swept in and smote him with a stuffy head and sneezes volatile enough to rattle the shutters. He had been banned from Kili's room since, and the past three days had grated on Fili's nerves until Oin threatened to drug his food if he would not cease pacing and allow himself to heal.

Thorin had determined a solution of his own for his nephew's inactivity. One morning he had walked out with no explanation or forewarning, returning several hours later with a curved branch and the bemused order to Fili that, "You will know what to do with it."

After staring at the "walking stick" for a good twenty minutes and wondering if Thorin's abstract solution was for Fili to bash himself over the head to escape his boredom, Fili had given in to the mundane task of adding some finer touches to the rugged staff. A twig was chopped off here, a strip of wood gouged away there, and before he had realized what his hands were doing he was staring at the crude arch of a bow.

The brilliance of his plan captivated Fili's mind and he had set to work with renewed vigor, already envisioning Kili's reaction when his new bow - one of Fili's ownmaking this time - was presented to him. Fili grimly remembered the last time he had prepared a special gift like this for his brother, and he wondered if the horror of that night showed in the morose lilt to his carved designs. He wanted to make it up to his brother somehow, and as he was unable to stay with Kili due to his illness he would have to find another way to cheer him up. The bow seemed such a paltry offering considering what had taken place in recent days, but it was all that Fili could think of for now.

When this was over and Kili was well enough to leave his room, Fili determined he would not spend another day in the forges until Kili had the birthday celebration he deserved. Whatever Kili wanted to do, whether it was practice his archery, tease the elders mercilessly until Thorin shouted for him to grow up and behave himself, or even sit in a tree for the entire day; Fili would be there right beside him. He would blunt the arrows with his poor aim, brave the heights in spite of his recent troubling experience with snapped branches and snarling dogs, and even purchase a certain peddler's hideous green dye for Dwalin's beard if that was what Kili wanted to do. They might waste their entire day scheming new feats and revisiting old enemies, or perhaps they would sit around and do absolutely nothing. Kili would care little _what_ they did, now that Fili considered it; he would be happy just to have his family close by on that one special day.

He should have realized that in the first place, before his brother was injured. Though the matter was in the past Fili continued to chide himself for his lack of foresight, and as he considered the consequences of his thoughtless decisions he swiped a coarse stone across the curve of the bow with unnecessary force. A small scratch was gouged into wood and he fingered it regretfully, his agitation dissipating as he carefully set the weapon aside.

"Do you have a moment?"

Fili glanced up in surprise to see his Uncle leaning in the doorway, observing his work. Thorin's visage was grim, and though his stern demeanor was not directed at Fili the young Dwarf nonetheless felt a stab of alarm.

"Is it Kili?" Fili asked at once.

He dreaded the answer. Kili had been improving so well lately! True, his stomach was still easily upset to the point where he could not manage anything more than half a mug of rich broth at a time, he continued to sleep through most of the day, and he was too weak to even lift a spoon on his own, but his broken hand was healing nicely and the swelling in his back and shoulders had decreased significantly. Oin had assured them that the worst was over, and Fili silently begged that Thorin had not come to refute the healer's promise.

Thorin paused for an instant, his brow furrowed in deep concentration, before he shook himself out of his thoughts and rectified hastily, "No, this does not concern Kili."

Fili closed his eyes momentarily and released a breath he had not realized he was holding. Thorin offered him a brief, wane smile of assurance, his posture relaxed but grave as he continued, "I need you to tell me all you can about the ones who attacked you."

Fili winced as he recollected the garish nightmare. He could still hear the black dog's exhilarated howls and the cold sneer in the Man's voice as he released his pet. With a shaky breath Fili raked his fingers through his hair, composing himself swiftly and nodding that he was ready to talk. Many of their people had risen in an uproar upon learning of the unprecedented attack on one of their own, and Thorin was not the only one who impatiently waited for answers. There was no better opportunity to discuss the matter than now; while there remained a chance that the conspirators could still be tracked down.

Slowly Fili recounted the events which led from his search for Kili in town to the three Men he had passed on the road, followed by the subsequent attack by the vicious hound. He carefully left out certain parts, such as the terror he had felt upon feeling ivory teeth graze his boot and the horror that plagued him upon hearing that Kili had been involved in a brawl. Thorin would want only the facts, and any emotional display on Fili's part would merely cause his Uncle to lose focus of what needed to be done and lash out in blind anger against whomever he labeled the enemy. If justice was to be served it must be meted out within the boundaries of caution. Dwarves were not highly favored in these regions, and they could not strike out carelessly without the law on their side.

When Fili came to the part of his tale where he found Kili, however, he could barely restrain his outrage and despair as he relived the scene. "They bound him to that staff and left him to die," he grated, clenching a discarded length of wood in his hands until it snapped in his grip. He remembered with vivid clarity the loathing he felt when he tore away the course ropes holding his brother in place, and he -

No. Not _ropes_.

_With fingers numbed by the chilling rains he fumbled with the ties of what felt like animal hair binding his brother to the cursed staff..._

His brother's hair had been sheared away on one side.

Something alike to animal hair had been...

"_Durin's bane_," Fili whispered, a wrath he had never imagined possible rising up to swallow him alive. "They tied him with his own hair, Uncle."

A crimson haze descended and Fili determined he had never known hatred until this moment. He would hunt them all down one by one, and he would destroy them all. So help him, if he died in the attempt it would be worth it. They had beaten his little brother nigh to death and then degraded him in the worst manner possible. Caution held no reasoning in this hour; he would leave their corpses to rot until they sank into the bog just as they had intended for Kili.

_"Fili! Control yourself!_"

Thorin's bark shattered Fili's visions and he was surprised to find black spots swimming before his eyes. With an effort he forced himself to breath slowly, noting with morbid detachment the blood welling from his palm where he had clenched the blade of his carving knife.

Thorin crouched beside Fili and pressed a cloth firmly against the wound. Though his hands were steady a vein pulsed in his temple and his jaw was ridged in contained rage.

"Are you certain that Kili's attackers are the same who waylaid you?" he questioned with deceptive calm.

"I do not know for sure if they were the ones," Fili answered raggedly. "One of them said something about 'It not being worth _more_ trouble,' and they looked as though they had already been in a fight." He sighed and relented, "At the same time, the innkeeper mentioned that the entire tavern was in an uproar. It could have been a result of another conflict; they may not have been involved."

"Kili would know," Thorin nodded solemnly. "Perhaps he can recall an adequate description of those who ambushed him; if not any names."

"Keilan," Fili spoke up with a start, remembering now the title addressed to the hound's owner. "The one who set the dog on me was called Keilan. Maybe Kili will recognize the name."

"Either way, I will send word to Dwalin," Thorin determined with a gleam of triumph in his eyes. "At least one of the criminals can be tracked down for now."

"Can I go with you?" Fili suddenly implored, glancing hopefully in the direction of Kili's room. "Just to the doorway? I won't go in, Uncle; he would not catch my illness if I stood that far off, would he?"

Fili wondered how many invisible "_Please?"'s_ Kili fit into one puppy-eyed look and he tried to mimic his brother's tactic. He must have failed comically, as Thorin chuckled in response.

"I see no harm in that," Thorin allowed after a moment's consideration. "So long as your Mother does not catch you out of your room."

Fili grinned and leaped to his feet, wavering slightly from a wave of dizziness before swatting away Thorin's steadying hand and resolutely walking out on his own. He strayed close to the wall and trailed his fingers along the barrier to ground his shaky coordination. At the entrance Fili allowed Thorin to pass him, grasping the side of the doorway and peeking around to see his brother.

Kili was awake, his hands wrapped around his stomach as he stared broodily at the far wall as though it had offered him some personal insult. He did not stir at Thorin's greeting and Fili shook his head at his sibling's moodiness.

"Pouting already? Oin is right; you are getting better."

Kili gasped and whipped around at the sound of his brother's voice. A brilliant grin banished the gloom on his features as he exclaimed, "Fili!"

"Can't come in," Fili apologized quickly, waving a hand in helpless appeal to the consequences of Oin's surly demands. "Thorin granted me permission to vacate my prison cell for a little while; that is, until Mother boxes my ears for tramping about when I should be in bed."

Some of the light died in Kili's eyes and he wistfully pleaded, "You'll stay for a few minutes, at least?"

"As long as I can," Fili promised.

He folded his arms and leaned against the doorway, absorbing the sight of his brother as though they had been separated for years and not days. A spark of Kili's childish pertinence seemed to have returned, and though his eyes were rimmed in shadow and his face was lined with exhaustion under the bruises, he managed to direct a glower at their Uncle as though any moment Fili would be taken away from him again.

"Mother said you were ill," Kili piped up hastily. He spoke rapidly as though he was starved for conversation and had scant moments to fit in everything he wanted to say. "She told me it was only a cold but you never came back, and Oin would not tell me anything save that you were fine. I thought they were only trying to keep me from worrying - Mother says I fret too much - and I did not know if even Uncle Thorin was telling me the truth. But you _are_ all right, aren't you?"

He broke off and panted from exertion, his dark eyes scrutinizing Fili with a critical air as though to accuse that he would _know_ if his brother was lying to him.

Fili could only grin and shake his head. Kili was certainly on the mend if he was able to work himself into a frantic speech in less than thirty seconds. "I am _fine_," he assured. "It's just a - a - _kerchoo!"_

An explosive sneeze ripped through him and Fili muttered an oath as he pressed his sleeve against his nose. Thorin rolled his eyes and thrust a handkerchief towards him, which Fili accepted with a sheepish grin. He was delighted to see a hint of cheek in Kili's eyes as his brother witnessed his embarrassment. It had been far too long since they'd had a moment to laugh together.

"Oin informed me that you were improving as well," Fili commented warily, allowing his brother to fill in the blanks.

Kili made a face and curled inwards as though to protect his stomach. "I hate his medicines," he complained bitterly.

"His 'foul, loathsome brews' as you so eloquently described them this morning are the reason you are still alive," Thorin remarked with a raised eyebrow. Kili scrunched up his nose and chose to devote his attention to the intricate cracks in the stone floor.

Unaffected by his nephew's grouchiness, Thorin scooted a chair closer with his foot and settled down where Kili could see him without craning his neck. "I need to ask you a few questions regarding the attack," he said firmly.

Kili deliberately avoided his gaze. "I already told you, I don't know who did it," he insisted quietly. "They ambushed me from behind; I never saw their faces."

"But you know it was more than one," Fili broke in.

Kili shot him a dark look and then realized his mistake. His eyes flickered to Thorin and he stammered uncertainly, "They - they were wearing cloaks. I saw them earlier... they were in the tavern when the fight broke out." He licked his lips nervously and concluded in a rush, "I recognized their voices when they approached; that is all. I could not identify them otherwise."

"Is there a reason you would want to hide anything from us?" Thorin pressed softly, allowing Kili the chance to confess everything but refraining from cornering him into speaking against his will.

For a brief instant Kili paused, and Fili surmised at once that all was not as it should be. Then his brother shook his head in denial before leaning back and closing his eyes.

"There was nothing more," he murmured decisively. "M'tired."

Thorin looked as though he wanted to save more, but with a reluctant nod he accepted Kili's request and rose to leave.

Kili peeked one eye open and fixed Fili with a hopeful stare. "You'll stay?"

Momentarily Fili glanced towards Thorin before he made up his own mind and lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the floor. "I'll be right here, Kili; I'm not going anywhere."

Genuine relief eased the strain on Kili's features and he closed his eyes with a sigh of content. "Missed you, Fili," he murmured, already half-asleep.

"Same here, little brother," Fili smiled as he settled himself comfortably against the doorway.

He breathed deeply of the early spring breeze that wafted through the open window, relishing the tranquility of the afternoon. Sunbeams flitted softly into the room and for a moment Fili could pretend that the enemies of their lives existed only in nightmares, and that tomorrow it would be Kili's birthday again and he would do things _right_ this time.

It was an empty dream he could only wish for, but Fili still took comfort in the thought. After all, he still had to give Kili his present. Perhaps, when Kili was free to leave his room without needing to lean on someone's shoulder for support, Fili could give him a belated surprise and make it a day to remember after all.

* * *

Thorin lingered in the hallway, running the two conversations through his head and compiling the facts. He had the impression that Kili was deliberately withholding information, though he could not understand why his nephew would do so. He did not want to push Kili too far at this point, however. Thorin had gathered enough information for them to make their first move; for the time being that would have to be enough.

He suspected that Kili's attackers were indeed the same as Fili's. Why his nephew was reluctant to admit that Thorin could not comprehend, though he trusted that Kili would tell him in his own time. He was not one to contain secrets for very long.

Until then, Thorin knew from Fili that one of the ambushers was named Keilan, and he owned a hound that had either been killed recently or was now blinded in the right eye. Tracking down that particular individual should be no trouble, and with his capture they would stand a fair chance of identifying the rest.

"E-excuse me, Mister Thorin ... I-is there anything you would like me to do?"

Thorin glanced up to see Ori watching him anxiously from across the room. The boy's Mother had personally assigned him to the 'Honorable task of assisting in the recovery of the Dwarven Princes,' but the young lad was so nerve-wracked that at times it seemed he could do little more than gouge his knitting needles in a pathetic tangle of yarn and wish for the day to be over.

In this case Ori's presence was a welcome asset, however, for D_i_s had left the house on a short walk to relish the first day of sun after weeks of rain, and although Thorin trusted that his nephews would fare well enough on their own now he preferred that someone remained to call for Oin should his aid be required. He was confident that Ori, clumsy and absent minded as the boy often was, could be entrusted to fetch the healer if the situation proved necessary.

"Stay here until I return," Thorin called over his shoulder as he opened the door to blinding sunlight reflecting off the cobbled path. "If their Mother returns, distract her until Fili is safely in bed."

"But w-what should I do if that happens?" Ori questioned uncertainly. Thorin was already striding briskly down the path, however, and Ori was left to muddle through his worries on his own.

Thorin had evidence on his side, he had a strategy, and he had others who would stand behind him and testify that his claims were genuine. He was confident that within a forenight they would bring the criminals to justice. If Man's version of law would not support them, then Thorin would carry out the judgement himself. The ones who had toyed with his nephews' lives would live to regret the day they were born.

* * *

_Keilan slammed the door with unnecessary force as he entered the house, throwing his cloak onto a chair to drip clean and stalking towards his room. Logan glanced up from his written accounts, surprised at the racket._

_"You're not one to make a grand entrance," he commented dryly. "Did Millie propose to you again? You'll never find a girl if you keep scorning their minute faults, Keilan."_

_Keilan did not rise to the challenge, merely retrieving his muddied cloak and hanging it neatly on a wooden peg. "Jag is dead."_

_Logan's quill froze and he looked up with pity in his eyes, and for that reason Keilan did not even glance in his direction. He __**hated**__ his brother's compassion. _

_"I'm sorry, Keilan."_

_Useless. Weak. Words could never alter the course of events that had robbed Keilan of his only friend._

_"It was not your dog," Keilan fired back heatedly. He wrestled with the ties to his boots, snapping a buckle before giving up entirely. Holding the leather sole back with one foot, he wrenched the other free of its restraints and then repeated the process, tossing both boots next to the fire to dry._

_"They'll shrink," Logan warned casually._

_Keilan fixed him with a withering glower. "I do not care."_

_Logan regarded him quietly for a few minutes, allowing him to brood in peace before questioning guardedly, "Is there anything I can do to help?"_

_Keilan would not look in his direction, his hand rubbing unconsciously around the circular knob of the chair rim as he gazed into the fire. "No."_

_Another lengthy period of silence passed. Logan wriggled uncomfortably, never one to abide an unresolved crisis. "Do you want to talk about it?"_

_"Just leave me __**alone**__!"_

_Logan clamped his mouth shut and returned to his accounts, giving Keilan his space as he had requested. The scratching of the quill grated on Keilan's nerve and when he could stand it no longer he gathered his boots and the Dwarf's bow and stomped into his room, slamming the door behind him with immense satisfaction._

_He threw the boots down at the foot of his bed and sank into it, massaging his temples and forcing his breathing under control. This would never do. His anger was swiftly evolving into passion-driven fury, and Keilan knew that would only cloud his mind and distort his concise planning. He had to be crafty; crafty like the fox. He must keep his wits about him or he would slip in the crucial moment and all would be for naught. _

_Sitting up and supporting his elbows on his crossed knees, Keilan rested his chin on the bridge of his folded hands and stared into the sun streaked forest. He would need a plan, and it would have to be perfect. Like the stall where he kept his horse and his spotless room, like the rusty metal he beat into "copper" coins to swindle a trade, like the forged accounts he altered the moment his brother's back was turned; his strategy must be impeccable; without a single fault. _

_He could not afford to fail again._

* * *

**The Muses' heads are spinning from the rapid updates. At this rate I may be able to finish my story in time to begin a new one for my birthday next month!**

**I do not think mini-muse likes what is going on, but sadly it must comply with the Original Muse and the author's mad wishes or the Original Muse might sit on its head. ****Poor mini-muse. :( **

**Offer the dear little thing a review and a few chocolate chips to comfort it, won't you?**


	10. The Hunter

Sunlight streamed in golden tassels through the canopy of firs, bathing the mountains in its healing light and renewing every heart with the promise of a new day. Several afternoons' worth of heat had caused the bog to sink down into shallow, congealing muck, resulting in short tempers from those who lost their boots in the sludge and even sharper tantrums from those who had to clean the floor after said bootless travelers tracked acres of mud into the house with their bare feet.

D_i_s was currently enthralled in such a shouting match with Thorin, and Fili trembled as he peeked around the corner and listened to the siblings bicker. If this was how his Mother and Uncle quarreled as adults, he did not want to know how tyrannically they must have behaved as children. Any squabbles between himself and Kili seemed like innocent jesting compared to the what Fili was witnessing right now.

The seemingly endless, bleak winter was always a trying period of time for D_i_s, and with the added strain of the near tragedy within their home, she was now constantly on edge. Compiled on top of that was Thorin's harried urgency to find the criminals responsible for his nephews' beating. He seethed at the continuous delay in tracking down his quarry, barking out commands to those assisting him as if they were warriors caught up in the throe of battle. It had only been a matter of time before the tension in the air erupted in a hurricane of raised voices and pointless accusations. Those permitted to escape hastily fled the immediate vicinity, while those who had no choice but to remain waited out the storm with mingled ridicule and apprehension.

Ori was one of those apparently trapped in the onslaught. He sat huddled at the end of the hall, his knees drawn up to his chest and the book he had been dutifully scribbling in wrapped securely in his arms. He glanced anxiously in the direction of the commotion before whispering loudly,

"A-are they going to kill each other?"

"Who, them?" Fili scoffed, glancing back at the din with a roll of his eyes. "Not until Mother takes out the rolling pin, and by the time that happens, _everyone_ clears out."

"Oh..." Ori did not appear comforted by the thought. He wet his lips nervously and attempted to return to his writing, before Thorin's next shout caused him to jump and scrawl his coal-marker raggedly across the clean parchment.

Fili shot Ori a second glance as though realizing for the first time that the errand runner was still there. "You can leave, you know," he mentioned off-handedly. "You do not have to wait for Mother or Uncle to give you permission to go home."

"Really?" Gratefulness dawned in Ori's face and he exhaled in relief. "I thought I would have to stay until Mother sent for me."

Fili nodded in acknowledgement before his brow furrowed in confusion and he stared blankly at the wall, trying to sort through his mind what concept led Ori to believe he must remain until the _exact_ stroke of the clock before taking leave of his "duties." Unable to grasp the notion, Fili shook his head as the younger Dwarf skittered away with his pens and paper clutched safely in his arms. He could not even begin to understand and he gave up on any attempt otherwise. At this moment his only concern was to see Kili.

Slipping into his brother's room quietly, Fili eased the door shut behind him with a triumphant grin. Even if Mother might have proclaimed both her sons well enough to visit one another without endangering the other's health, Fili had found that there was a certain thrill in sneaking around when the "guards" were otherwise occupied. It was a bit of a game between himself and Kili, in fact. Mahal knew his brother needed a distraction of some sort these days. Kili had spent enough time cooped in his room that he was beginning to detest the four enclosed walls. His patience was tested and the entire family had had to endure his sarcasm, moodiness and complaining as he yearned to be free of his confinement.

Vaguely Fili considered that he was probably the only member of the household who was not ready to lash out over the matter of a dropped spoon. He ruefully envisioned the possibility that he would be the single negotiator between Thorin vs. D_i_s and Kili vs. Everyone should the trio refused to speak to one another for the remainder of the spring. Fili shuddered at the thought and hoped fervently that particular notion would not come to pass. He chuckled dryly and rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced up to speak to his brother...

Only to realize that Kili was gone.

Fili's mouth went dry and he searched the room frantically, calling his brother's name and preparing to shout for Thorin when he received no answer. Kili could not have slipped past him in the hall; Fili surely would have seen him pass by.

"Kili!" Fili looked wildly about, checking under the bed and cursing softly when the only plausible hiding place did not reveal his brother. Where could he possibly have gone?

Cool air gusted into the room and Fili's gaze flitted to the open window. His eyes narrowed in dire suspicion and he swiftly gauged the open space, estimating the width necessary for a Dwarf Kili's size to fit through. Placing his hands on the sill Fili hefted himself over the edge, tucking his knees close under him and barely missing grazing his head on the top of the frame as he leaped smoothly into open air. The thrill of flight captured his thoughts momentarily and he smirked in triumph as he landed lightly in a crouch on the grass not too far below.

No doubt Kili had taken a less unconventional way out due to his still healing injuries, but as the freedom of the outdoors carried his troubles away with the breeze Fili could understand why his brother might have fled in such a manner. Trees swayed in the mournful sigh of the wind, dancing glints of sunlight capturing the wilds in tranquil silence. The atmosphere was morose, yet peaceful; an environment Kili would appreciate when he needed to gather his thoughts.

Fili had the impression he knew just where to find his brother. Close to the edge of the dirt path next to their home was a crumbling stone wall; set up at one point as a formidable barrier by the previous landowner, and long since fallen into pitiful disarray Once a fine elm tree had shaded the far east corner, its low hanging branches and thick cover of leaves providing an imaginative tower for two children to hide, read and play fortress in until Mum or Uncle called them in for supper. After the tree had been scorched by lightning one year it had been chopped into firewood to stave off the icy tendrils of winter's frost. In its place had sprung up a number of saplings, which over the years had formed a serene grove where one who was troubled by the burdens of the world could sit quietly and think, resting in the comfort that he would be undisturbed until his worries were muddled through and he could face his trials with his head held high and his pride undiminished.

Fili was not surprised that the grove would be the first place his brother would seek refuge. He could just make out Kili's form under the patched tent of greenery. His brother was sitting with his arms loosely hugging his knees, his gaze fixated on nothing in particular. His hood was pulled halfway up as though to shield against the wind, but Fili could tell at a glance that the blue cloth had been arranged to effectively conceal the frayed edges of Kili's shortened hair.

As he ducked under the low branches a twig snapped under Fili's boot and Kili startled. He whipped around to face the intruder, fear of discovery clouding his eyes before he recognized his brother. Shamefacedly he offered an apologetic twitch of a grin, scooting over a little to give Fili room to sit beside him before turning his attention back to the mist wreathed hills in the distance.

Plopping down beside his brother Fili lethargically relaxed against the shelter, knitting his hands behind his head and crossing one leg over his raised knee. A smudge of dirt on his boot caught his attention and he determinedly scraped at it for a few minutes, giving Kili the opportunity to speak first if he so chose.

"Mum sent you to find me?" Kili mentioned at last, looking down to pick at the bandages of his splint hand.

"Actually, I managed to slip past the guards while they were disputing the cleanliness of our prison," Fili answered with a cheeky smile. He added in a hesitant after note, "Mother _will _be worried when she finds you gone, you know. Oin instructed that it was still too damp for you to be outdoors yet."

Kili snorted and rolled his eyes. "Says the one with the swollen, stuffy nose."

"My nose is in perfect condition," Fili sniffed. He muffled a sneeze in his elbow an instant later and promptly glared Kili into impudent muteness.

A comfortable silence dragged on, undisturbed save for the background noise of travelers cursing the lingering muck which clung to their wagons and ponies' hooves; ducks, chickens and goats being herded to higher pastures; and merchants competing against one another for the most satisfactory prices for their wares.

Reluctantly Fili broke the stillness, broaching a question that had burned on his mind for nearly a week. "Why did you not tell Uncle Thorin about Keilan?"

Kili sucked in a sharp breath and spasmed as though he had been stabbed from behind. He whirled to face his brother, his hood whipping behind him and partially exposing the ragged strands of his torn hair. His eyes were wide and stricken with the horror of being caught, and Fili almost regretted posing the question.

"I never said - "

"Why did you not tell him?" Fili did not wish for his brother to revisit his nightmares, but now that the truth was exposed he would not let Kili rest until he knew why his brother was holding secrets from them. "This is not like you, Kili; why are you so determined to protect those who harmed you?"

Kili's expression hardened and his despair instantly morphed into indignation. "I am _not_ protecting them, Fili!" he spat, repulsed at the accusation.

"Then why are you lying to Uncle Thorin - to us all?" Fili demanded. "You know who attacked it, don't you?"

An invisible barrier shuttered over Kili's eyes and his expression clouded as he looked away.

"Don't you?" Fili pressed, refusing to allow his brother to escape this time.

"You weren't there," Kili said in a low, angered tone. "You have no idea what happened."

"Then _tell me_," Fili insisted. "Don't leave me in the dark, Kili. You never kept secrets from me before; why will you not allow me to help you?"

"Nothing you could do would ever change a thing," Kili snapped, his dark eyes flashing with hatred. "You don't know what he said to me; the terms he used to describe our people. If I could kill him myself I would do so, Fili. You could not possibly understand."

"At least allow me to _try_," Fili pleaded quietly. "Kili. _Please. _ Don't force me to watch you suffer and be helpless to intervene. At least allow me to know _why_ you feel you must endure this alone."

For a time Kili was silent, choosing to worry a loose thread on his sleeve as he made a point not to look in Fili's direction. "This is something I _have_ to do on my own, Fili," he finally said.

He paused as though waiting for his brother to object. When Fili remained in observant silence Kili reluctantly continued, "You did not hear what he called me, Fili. He ..." Kili's voice wavered and he breathed harshly in fury, "... He labelled me as a disgrace to our people. A worthless blight upon our race."

"Oh, Kili..." Fili began, his heart rent with compassion as he hastily began to assure his brother otherwise.

"There was more than that, Fili," Kili interrupted bitterly, "You did not hear the terms he used to deride Thorin ... our people... The beating itself was trivial, Fili. I cannot ..." Unconsciously he fingered his severed tresses, swallowing with difficulty against a wave of mortified shame as he finished in a hushed voice, "I cannot allow his insults to go unrequited."

Tentatively Fili placed his arm around Kili's shoulder, uncertain how his brother would react to the touch. Kili tensed but did not shrug his hand off, and Fili offered with confidence, "Then let us help you, Kili. They will rue the day they ever harmed a son of Durin." _And the day they hurt my little brother._

"I _must_ do this myself, Fili," Kili determined forcibly, pulling away. "I _have_ to. It is not a matter of my honor any longer. It is the matter of my heritage; my legacy; _everything_ I stand for. I cannot abide the insults he laid upon my family."

His gaze was so fervent that for an instant Fili did not recognize his brother. For the slightest moment he was certain he sat in the presence of royalty; of a Prince directly descended of Durin himself. The alteration struck him like a physical blow, for no longer was his kid brother looking to _him _for guidance and protection. Kili had faced his trials with a warrior's heart, rising above the tumult to stand as an heir worthy of his lineage. He fought this battle in his own strength, and Fili desperately wished he could be standing at his brother's side right now, guarding his back as he was meant to until Kili led them both to victory.

"That is why I could not tell Uncle Thorin, or even you, who it was that did this to me," Kili concluded. "I will not stand by uselessly and allow Uncle to fight my battles for me, Fili; not this time. I will face Keilan myself and make him answer for every word he spoke against my family's name. This is _my _war, and it would be cowardice to lay the weight of retribution on any other. I will not allow his words to shame me any longer."

Fili had no answer to belay Kili's statement. He focused his gaze on a blue beetle crawling through the ferns and twisted a handful of grass between his fingers until his thoughts ceased to race and he could clearly understand his brother's demands. With a slow nod Fili looked up and met Kili's gaze, catching in his brother's eyes the fervent plea that he not betray him.

"All right," he accepted with a quiet sigh. "But you will not go alone; I am coming with you." _I cannot take the chance of losing you again._

Relief broke out on Kili's face and he slumped as the tension drained from his shoulders. "Don't tell Uncle Thorin," he begged softly.

Fili shook his head in a solemn oath. "I promise."

"I am glad that you will go with me," Kili smiled, his eyes darkened with grim foreknowledge though the strain was eased from his voice. "I ... I did not want to go alone." With a shaky laugh he added, "Besides, you owe him a few loose teeth for nearly caving in your skull."

The weight of their mission rested heavily on them both and Kili's forced humor died away. Eventually D_i_s' frantic calls echoed and Kili flinched in guilt for having worried her.

"I suppose ... we should go back," he considered. He rose to his feet and brushed the wet grass from his knees, Fili following in quick suit as they turned back to the house together.

"You won't tell her what happened?" Kili wheeled on his brother, suddenly anxious at this new thought.

"Not a word," Fili assured, "... On _one _condition."

Kili regarded him with some trepidation and Fili smiled somberly, clapping a hand to his brother's shoulder. "Wait until you are fully healed before setting out."

With a sheepish chuckle Kili nodded, swatting Fili's hand away and yelping when his brother dragged him under his arm and ruffled his hair.

"Ow! Don't make me laugh," Kili gasped, pressing a hand to his stomach and breaking into a full run the moment his concerned brother released him.

"Little brat..." Fili muttered, instantly giving chase.

The sky might have been littered with wisps of grey, but to Fili the morning seemed light and carefree. Kili had a goal and he had allowed his brother to catch a glimpse of his most hidden secrets. He had granted Fili the opportunity to stand by him through the upcoming storm, and for the time being Fili was content to leave all else be.

It seemed that nothing could shatter the joy of the morning. Not even the comical bulging of Thorin's eyes before Kili slammed into him and Fili accidentally sent them both crashing to the floor, followed immediately D_i_s' haranguing for her sons' inexplicable disappearance and her frantic appeals when Kili was almost sandwiched between his brother and Uncle. To Fili the morning seemed absolutely perfect, and though the peace in their home was ultimately sacrificed he would not have traded the outraged quibbling between Thorin and D_i_s and the gasping yelps of Kili's laughter for all the fabled treasure of Erabor.

...

_Keilan did not look up from his work as the door slammed behind Logan. He continued to oil the newly sharpened Dwarven blade he had "procured" from the sewer rat, wiping it meticulously with a cloth as though he did not notice his brother's presence._

_"Planning a trip?" Logan asked testily, eyeing Keilan's readied cloak and pack with weighted criticism._

_Keilan did not consider his inquiry worth an answer. "I suppose the blacksmith nailed the wrong sized shoes on your horse again," he quipped mundanely, aware of the anger radiating from his brother. "Or perhaps those peasants you asked to begin planting in two weeks rashly decided to start early and their work was destroyed by the recent cloudbursts." _

_Logan seemed to inevitably trust that no matter how many stupid mistakes were made by the fools he hired, somehow they would learn to do the job properly if he just gave them one more chance. It was a wonder he had not lost the farm to thieves and bumbling imbeciles by now. Keilan always ensured his business was taken care of personally. If he could not carry out the task himself he shrewdly watched the process to ensure it was completed to his own satisfaction. Of course, dear elder brother was too confident in the competence of idiots to take such precautions, even if he frequently vented his frustration when the work had to be started all over again._

_Logan did not rant to Keilan which merchant had crafted his boots a size too small or which bread maker had accidentally slipped a rock into the dough which had broken his tooth, however. He merely watched him, his gaze stony in rebuke, until at last Keilan could stand it no longer._

_"What is it __**this**__ time, Logan?" he asked icily, laying aside the oiled cloth and snapping the knife closed._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_Alarm bells pealed and Keilan stiffened marginally. Forcing himself to appear at ease he knitted his fingers under his chin and gave Logan his rapt attention. "Did what? I fail to understand what you are accusing me of, _brother_."_

_"I overheard several Dwarves in town today. There was an unwarranted attack on two of their people. ... They mentioned your name, Keilan." Logan paused for a moment as though waiting for his brother to speak._

_"Why did you do it?" he questioned when he received no response._

_"Tch. Dwarves," Keilan rolled his eyes. "Always one more fault they have to lay upon us. What have they determined that we have - "_

_"__**Don't**__ put me off, Keilan!" Logan interrupted, slamming his fist down on the table. Keilan could not recall any one time in his life that he had ever seen his brother's anger directed towards himself in such an audacious display of fury. "Tell me the __**truth**__, for once in your life! One of the Dwarves was attacked by a dog: Jag was killed nearly two weeks ago after disappearing in the storm. One of the Dwarves was said to have been bound to a staff: such as the one you __**conveniently**__ happened to misplace even though up till that time you refused to leave the house without it. Then one day you come home with a Dwarven bow and that knife you hold in your hand. What _have_ you done, Keilan?"_

_There was no use denying it any longer. Keilan's eyes glinted like shields of molten bronze as he punctuated heatedly, "They were asking for it, Logan. They __**all**__ were!"_

_"Asking for what?" Logan threw his hands in the air in disbelief. "What kind of half-demented illusions have you conjured, Keilan? You attacked them for no reason!"_

_"I had every right!" Keilan shouted, leaping to his feet and knocking his chair to the side in his fervor. He planted his hands on the table and glared across it, daring Logan to refute his words. "They slaughtered __**our**__ people, Logan. Mother and Father, our little sister; they would all be alive right now if not for those murderous swine! It was not an act of petty violence - it was justice!"_

_Logan drew back as though he had been struck. "Is that what you believe?" he asked in a horrified whisper. "That __**they**__ killed our parents? Mother and Nila died of the disease, Keilan. The Dwarves - "_

_"The Dwarves brought it with them!" Keilan fired back, hatred radiating from his voice to the point where it was almost tangible. "They brought it from their cursed mountain and spread it to all our people! Our family would still be alive if not for those detestable invaders!"_

_"Invaders?" Logan said in disbelief. "Their home was destroyed, Keilan - they had no where to go! Besides, technically speaking our family was the invaders; the Dwarves had been here nearly half a century before you were born!"_

_"Do not stray from the point!" Keilan retaliated, stabbing his index finger accusingly in his brother's direction._

_"The disease was already killing others in the outreaching villages!" Logan defended. "It was only a matter of time before it spread to our region!"_

_"Then why did none of the Dwarves die?" Keilan demanded. "Only after __**they**__ came here did their sickness follow!"_

_"Is this what you thought was a plausible excuse to take out your anger against them?" Logan shook his head in remorse. "Keilan ... Mother was already weak from giving birth to Nila when she took ill, and the babe would never have survived the winter as it was. Father ... he died before you were born. He fell into the river during the spring floods and his body was never found. The Dwarves had nothing to do with their passing. I have accepted their deaths, Keilan, and I knew our parents better than you. Why must you continue to hold on to a grudge that has no reason to exist?"_

_Keilan gritted his teeth and refused to answer. At length Logan sighed in defeat and turned away. _

_"Get ready," he said in a low voice, grabbing his coat and slipping on his boots. "As soon as the horses are saddled I'm taking you to speak to the Dwarven representative."_

_Keilan glared stonily at his brother and did not twitch a muscle until after the door closed had softly behind him._

_..._

_Logan took longer than necessary in the stables, brushing down Likaya's mane until it shone as he quietly spoke to the mare of his troubles. He could not believe that his little brother would willingly attack another living creature in such a heartless and inhumane manner. Certainly the race of Man sometimes lacked certain aspects of dignity and widespread loyalty that Logan had witnessed in the Dwarves, and a few were capable of the most atrocious deeds, but surely not __**Keilan**__. Not his little brother._

_How could Keilan stoop to such tyranny for the sake of a false quarrel he had invented. Did his anger truly run that deep? What lies had been fed to him to convince Keilan that the Dwarves were the enemy who had killed his family? Logan had never refuted the accusations, for he had never known up till now that they had existed._

_Keilan had alwasy been a solitary child, resentful when his contemplation was disturbed. Logan had given his brother all the space he desired, and he wondered now if that was his first mistake. He had wanted Keilan to have whatever made him happy, trying to make up for the fact that they both had lost something that could never be replaced. Perhaps if he had been more of a __**brother **__and less of a __**guardian **__things might have turned out differently._

_The thought broke his heart._

_Gently ruffling Likaya's ears, Logan patted her neck fondly and forced himself to leave the quiet comforts of the stable. As much as he dreaded the future confrontation, he could no longer put off the inevitable. He had to set things right and hope that the Dwarves would be merciful._

_"Keilan?" he called softly, striving to keep the anger and disappointment out of his voice as he eased the door shut behind him. _

_His brother was nowhere to be seen, and with a disheartened sigh Logan plodded towards Keilan's room. He rapped lightly on the door, taking a deep breath to fortify himself before cautiously pushing the door open. _

_He was not expecting the sight before him._

_Keilan was curled up in the center of the bed, his legs drawn up to his chest and his face buried against his knees. Heaving gasps wracked his shoulders and his face was damp with tears. Logan could only stand in stunned silence for a moment. In all his life, he had never seen Keilan cry._

_He did not know what to do. Gingerly he sat down on the bed, tentatively reaching out and waiting for Keilan to shout for him to leave. When his hand rested fully on Keilan's shoulder and his brother still did not order him away, Logan asked softly,_

_"Keilan? Keilan, what's wrong?"_

_Keilan sobbed and reached out to clutch Logan's wrist as though desperate for a compassionate touch. A breath of hope stirred in Logan, equally dampened by bewilderment at his sibling's behavior._

_"Do you... do you want to talk about it?"_

_Keilan sniffed hard, apparently reining his emotions back under control before he sat up and scrubbed his sleeve against his eyes. Logan cautiously put his arm around his brother's shoulders, his heart welling up with empathy when Keilan relaxed against him. Another tear trickled down his brother's cheek as he whispered miserably,_

_"I am sorry, Logan."_

_Logan did not know what to say. He carefully drew his skittish brother into a hug, caught off guard by Keilan's sudden reversion to a childhood Logan had only envisioned in his dreams. He knew he should relish the moment, for knowing his brother it would never come again._

_"You were right, you know," Keilan confessed, the words forced as his pride battled against the admission that he was in the wrong. "It was a stupid quarrel; I should never have lost my temper."_

_"I only hope __**they**__ will accept that," Logan reminded with gentle rebuke. He could forgive Keilan easily enough, but then again he had not been the one harmed by his brother's rash behavior._

_Keilan nodded numbly and choked on a swallow. "Yelon and Neilan started the fight ... I should not have allowed myself to be pulled in."_

_Logan grunted in agreement, logging away his cousins' involvement to pass on to the Dwarven leader. Keilan smiled bitterly through his tears as he watched his face reflect off the silver glinting of the Dwarven knife he had stolen. _

_"Mother would have been disappointed, wouldn't she?"_

_Logan forced down the lump in his throat as he promised, "She would have loved you still."_

_"She like the winter," Keilan stuttered. "She said the rains brought healing. I was thinking of her that day, when..." He took a heaving breath and gushed, "She would make us those special sweets to celebrate the thunder, so we would not dread the storms. She always gave me a little bit, even if I was too young to chew it properly."_

_Logan smiled sorrowfully and shook his head, remembering the past with a sense of desperate longing. "You weren't even two when she died," he reminded with a light tease. He sighed as he reminisced a time of security and love he had known only a short time. "I wish you could remember her for who she really was, and not for what I told you about her."_

_"She would have wanted me to accept the Dwarves, and not despise them," Keilan determined, looking to Logan for confirmation._

_Logan nodded regretfully. "I always tried to help you understand that."_

_Keilan glanced away, his features twisting against a renewed onslaught of tears. "I was a fool," he admitted brokenly. "I never realized it ... not until now."_

_Shrinking away from Logan, Keilan wiped his eyes dry and rubbed his sleeve against his nose. "I will go with you," he accepted bluntly. "Willingly. I ... I want to apologize in person to the ones I attacked."_

_Logan breathed a deep sigh of relief. Could it be true that his brother had finally put the past behind him and was willing to accept the blame of his crimes? He had no reason to doubt his brother and he refused to question Keilan's fervency as anything but genuine. _

_"I'll be there with you, every step of the way," Logan promised. "You won't have to face them alone."_

_Keilan nodded and averted his eyes to the floor, rubbing his arm in an insecure gesture. "I should return the bow and the knife I took," he considered. _

_"Are you ... sure you will be all right with this?" Logan questioned, still uncertain what to make of his brother's sudden appeal to reason._

_Keilan exhaled quietly and nodded. "I ... I feel like I just woke up," he considered, rubbing his eyes again and fiddling with a tie on his gauntlet. "I always felt there was reason to hate before, and now... Now I do not know what to do with my life."_

_"Well, I suppose we take each step at a time," Logan suggested, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily. "For now..." _

_He flung one hand in the air in helpless defeat. He could not erase his brother's crimes, nor could he appeal for the Dwarves to forget the past. They did not easily forgive one who had harmed their own. _

_Even so, Logan foresaw hope in the future. Keilan had seen the error of his ways and was prepared to lay his grudges aside. Perhaps there was an opportunity for peace between them now, and maybe - just maybe - Logan could finally have the chance to lay aside his role as guardian and take his place as Keilan's older brother._

_..._

_The moment Logan's back was turned, Keilan furiously scrubbed a dampened cloth against his eyes and blinked hazily from the remnant of the stinging, irritable fumes. A piece of onion was dropped superstitiously behind his bed. Should anyone find it later and discover the truth behind his "emotional meltdown," it would matter little. _

_As it was Keilan was surprised that Logan had been so easy to convince. He had little experience acting as a lost, sniveling brat in need of "big brother's help," and Keilan had been in no small amount of trepidation that Logan would see through his guise at once. __As soon as his mission was completed he would be forced to leave town, however, and his pretense of "remorse" would no longer hold any meaning to his overprotective brother._

_It was true, all the same, that Keilan had often wondered how life would have been if his parents and sister were still alive. The loss of something he had never known had haunted Keilan's childhood until his anger - ravenous for some form of outlet - had picked up on a traveler's rumor and linked his family's death with the "shorter folk" he neither could relate to nor understand. _

_There were those in his village who openly scorned the Dwarves, and from them Keilan drew his own conclusion: He needed something to hate, and Dwarves were the invaders upon the realms of Men. Therefore, whether or not logic dictated otherwise, the Dwarves were to blame for all of his problems. Sound reasoning held no place in Keilan's vindictive spirit. He willingly fostered his hatred in spite of his brother's cautioning, until he could no longer bear the sight of any Dwarf without imagining their proud, arrogant sneers trodden into the dust._

_The day of the storm had been the final stroke in a simmering, tediously patient war. When the dark haired mud rat had turned up his nose in their direction Keilan had determined that enough was enough. Swindling the Dwarven merchants with useless pieces of circular metal; nicking the blade of a blacksmith's meticulously crafted sword; "accidentally" stumbling over a Dwarf child for the sad lack of height which caused them to "escape his notice"; and deriding their race with viscous, underhanded terms whenever he was given the chance; none of these tactics would suffice any longer. Keilan had determined that it was time that the Dwarves learned a lesson they would never forgive nor forget. _

_But then his plans had been foiled, and the simple plot of fulfilling a personal grudge turned into a ploy for ultimate vengeance. Keilan did not know exactly when his hatred had evolved into the desire for annihilation, but he suspected it began with the death of Jag. For once he understood the pain of true loss, and he did not know how to bear it other than in the same manner he had led his life: through radical animosity._

_Now that his motives had been uncovered there was no other way around Keilan's "apology," but he would use it to his purposes all the same. He would see retribution for the Dwarves' felonies against him. With their names passed on to Logan, the passive fighter who would sell his soul for an illusion of peace, Yelon and Neilan would also not escape Keilan's wrath. Keilan himself would not stand trial when the authorities came - he was far too crafty for that - but his cousins would see their due punishment for not finishing the job thoroughly with the dark haired Dwarf._

_With the calm ease of one set on his path Keilan slung his pack onto his shoulder, slipping the switchblade into his pocket and tucking the Dwarven bow under his arm. The single arrow identical to the one which had slain his dog was wrapped carefully into the binding. _

_One arrow; one shot; one opportunity to bring down his enemy and ensure Jag's murderer never drew another breath. _

_Logan truly was a fool. In goading Keilan into making amends with the Dwarves, his brother was leading him straight to his intended quarry. Keilan could not have planned his vengeance more thoroughly. In a few hours his search would finally be at an end. _

_This time, the hunter would not fail to destroy his prey._

...

**The mini-muse shivers in a little birdcage it has locked itself into for protection. It is gulping down chocolate chips like there is no tomorrow and has set up a sign saying "Preserve the Imaginary Wildlife." **

**Meanwhile, the Original Muse is smirking Grinch-style and plotting with Evil!Genius Neocolai on the best way to ... oh, right; I suppose that will be decided in the next chapter. XD**

**So yes, review! It is now imperative regarding the lives of our favorite Sons of Durin! (Shiftily glances around and sneaks future script to the Original Muse, who is typing furiously while dining on strictly non-caffeinated products.)****  
**


	11. Time You Should Be Sleeping

**Note**: **I forgot to mention it in the last chapter, but Keilan and Logan's confrontation was supposed to take place 2 days after Kili and Fili's conversation.**

* * *

**So, 2 days after Fili and Kili talked and a few hours later...**

* * *

_"Keilan, don't be a fool!"_

_His brother's words were unheeded as Keilan wheeled Torvin around, the screaming horse stomping its hooves around the Dwarves who scrambled out of the way. The burliest of the five, a balding, tattooed Dwarf who appeared to be the leader, grabbed Torvin's reins and held the stallion in place with surprising strength given his short stature._

_"I will __**not**__ be led in as a prisoner, Logan!" _

_His eyes flashing with vehemence, Keilan loosened his foot from the stirrup and viciously kicked out at the Dwarf's face. His boot was caught in an unrelenting grip, and for a moment he felt a glimmer of fear as he glimpsed in those eyes a fury surpassing his own. In a burst of panic Keilan wrenched his leg free, twisting off Torvin's saddle and tumbling to the ground. Before the Dwarves could close off his escape route he rolled to his feet, slapping the horse's side so that it reared up in confused pain and gave him a few crucial seconds to slip away from the throng._

_Keilan did not wait long enough to gather his bearings or ensure the enemy was not following. He ran into the line of trees bordering the road, slipping into the darkness with the urgent stealth of a wolf fleeing the hunter. Logan was shouting his brother's name, looking frantically for Keilan even as he tried to rein his own horse under control. _

_More prominent in Keilan's mind was the pursuit of the Dwarves. Their tread was silent and deadly, their war cries ceasing as they sought to catch him unawares. They were swift on foot and knew the terrain, and on their own territory they stood a good chance of tracking down their quarry. Keilan was travelling lighter, however, and he had the advantage of endurance. He had hunted prey and predator alike, and although Jag no longer streaked alongside him, prepared to rip the throats out of their pursuers if necessary, Keilan knew how to conceal himself in the shadows and remain motionless until his presence was little more than a memory carried on the breeze. Immobile; invisible invulnerable; the falcon poised in silent grace to strike its prey from behind._

_All he had to do now was wait for nightfall to catch the enemy unaware._

* * *

Not for many years had Thorin run with such urgency. There was no time to reply to the gawking onlookers he shoved past, nor mutter an apology to the vendor whose cart was overturned. Haste was imperative; there was no moment for delay.

D_i_s whirled in surprise when Thorin barged into the house, the door slamming behind him with enough force to knock her mug onto the floor. The shattering of pottery was like a thunderclap in the silence and D_i_s' eyebrows narrowed in baffled frustration at her brother's wild entrance.

"Thorin, what in Durin's name is going on?"

"Where are the boys?" Thorin did not wait for an answer, striding down the hall and inspecting every room. He swore explosively upon finding no sign of Fili or Kili.

"They both needed to get out of the house for a while. I gave them permission to head down to the training grounds earlier this morning," D_i_s replied, following after Thorin with no small amount of concern. "What is it, Thorin?"

"When did they leave?" Thorin rallied in response. He looped an axe in his belt and plucked up a hammer, wasting no further time than necessary to prepare.

"Thorin_!_" D_i_s caught his arm and wheeled him around, demanding crisply, "_What. Is. Going. On?"_

Thorin hesitated and released a slow breath, uncertain how much he should reveal to his sister. "We found the one responsible," he finally relented.

D_i_s sucked in a sharp breath, knowing instantly of whom Thorin spoke. "Did you...?"

"He evaded our grasp," Thorin rumbled, his anger held in check only for the dire situation before them. "Search parties are combing the forest as we speak."

D_i_s eyes flashed with understanding. "You think he is he has come to finish what he started."

The chilling blue fire in Thorin's gaze was answer enough. D_i_s' expression hardened and as Thorin turned away she darted to the side and grabbed a knife from the table. "_Wait_. I am going with you."

Thorin did not argue the point, giving his sister a sharp nod and leading the way out the door. His stride was measured and forceful and his blood boiled within his veins until his knuckles turned white from the fierce grip on his hammer. Should this _Keilan_ dare to harm his nephews again, he would not live long enough to beg for mercy.

* * *

For hours Fili and Kili languidly passed the day. They clambered over rock walls and scrambled to escape when the owners of the property shouted after them for intruding, raced one another whenever Kili was seized by the desire to run freely after weeks of being cooped indoors, and spent the greater part of the time meandered through fields and small copses of trees, enjoying the peace and stillness of another day neither had expected to see.

Kili tired easily and they frequently stopped to rest, passing the time with light conversation or merely sitting and relishing the quiet. The matter of Keilan was never brought up, and yet it was ever foremost on Fili and Kili's minds. The concerns of the future brought a grim pallor to a morning that should have cheerful and carefree, but the relief of having his brother alive and whole at his side overshadowed his disappointment and Fili strove to enjoy the day.

It was not until mid-afternoon when they reached the archery training grounds as planned. Kili immediately flopped against a tree and closed his eyes, sighing in content and leaning his head back as though to prepare for an impromptu nap. Fili snorted lightly and rolled his eyes. He had vowed he would do anything Kili wanted on this day, but whittling a twig while waiting for his brother to wake up just in time to return home was _not_ going to be permitted on that list.

"Kili," Fili called softly, casting his brother a dark look when Kili blew his bangs out of his face and refused to answer. The answer was clearly a _'Shut up and let me sleep,'_ but Fili was in no mood to placate his brother on this request.

"Enough lazying around," he teased, dropping a wrapped bundle onto Kili's lap. "You haven't even opened your present yet."

Kili peeked one eye open and examined the oilcloth parcel, his exhaustion vanishing as the gleam of curiosity lit his expression. He looked up to his brother with surprise and Fili grinned in return.

"Happy Birthday, Kili," he announced.

Kili flinched and a shadow passed over his face. He fingered the string securing the package and let it slip through his grasp, his gaze darkened with something that Fili could not read. Fili's heart fell and he slumped in disappointment. So long he had worked on the bow, envisioning the moment it was revealed, and now Kili would not even accept the gift. What had gone wrong, that his brother should be so upset?

"Of course," Fili relented as he swallowed with difficulty, "If you do not - "

"You actually remembered," Kili whispered. He traced his finger over the leather ties, a trace of a morose smile flitting across his expression.

Fili started, both confused and concerned by his brother's response. Kili had heard why he had been absent the morning of his birthday; Fili had passed on his tale soon after his brother was able to stay awake long enough to comprehend it. Had Kili still upheld the belief that he had intentionally forgotten him?

"I ... I didn't think it would matter anymore, after ... after what happened," Kili broached with a forced smile. "I thought everyone had moved on."

Fili's expression softened and he settled down beside his brother, meeting Kili's gaze with earnest compassion. "Do you really believe I would allow myself to forget you again - after everything that happened to us? Do you think that little of yourself, Kili?"

"It's not _that_," Kili hastily insisted. "I only thought that ... well, with the search for Keilan and both of us nearly dying... I figured it had slipped everyone's mind." He shrugged with false bravado and excused lightly, "There was too much at stake to make a fuss over the matter. I had moved on myself, in fact."

Fili slung an arm over his brother's shoulder and drew him into a one-sided hug. He shook his head in wonder at how little Kili anticipated from his family, when he seemed to expect no less than perfection from himself in return.

"Do you know how furious Mother was when she thought we had neglected your birthday again?" Fili thought back to that morning and smirked as he rubbed his ear in painful remembrance "I thought she would come close to murdering Uncle Thorin for being so late; it was that important to her that you were not forgotten."

Kili fiddled with the rawhide ties on his present and did not speak, but Fili could tell he was listening intently.

"The only reason Thorin is so caught up with the matter of Keilan is _because _of what happened to you on that day," Fili insisted. "We all wanted it to be special, and that made the blow twice as hard when you were hurt."

"You were, too," Kili broke in at once, his gaze reproachful as though he was annoyed that Fili was leaving his own injuries out of the story.

Fili nodded to appease his brother and concluded, "Which is why Thorin has not allowed the matter of the ambush to rest. None of us have forgotten you, Kili." With a sheepish grin Fili added, "In fact, as soon as this is over Mother intends to give you a surprise party to make up for it all. I was not supposed to tell you that so ... act surprised when it happens, all right?"

Kili ducked his head and chuckled, his eyes lit with the wonder of one who had expected nothing and was instead given a kingdom. "I never begrudged any of you," he swore with honest fervency. "It was never your fault for ... for what _they_ did."

"I know," Fili answered with a somber nod. "But at least allow me to settle my own conscience, Kili. I wanted to ensure that day was memorable for you in a _better _way than it turned out. Even if you have moved on, I have been unable to. Now that I have a second chance, well ..." Fili sighed and gave up, unable to form the eloquent apology he felt his brother deserved. "At least open the present, will you?"

Glancing up with a twinkle in his eyes Kili questioned impishly, "Do I have to guess what it is first, or do I just rip it open and try not to break anything?"

"Just open it, you twit," Fili rolled his eyes, batting his palm against the base of Kili's skull. He knit his fingers behind his head and leaned back against the tree, tapping his foot somewhat nervously as he waited for his brother's reaction.

With eager haste Kili rapidly unknotted the ties holding the bundle together, tossing the rawhide string haphazardly to the side and flipping back the cloth holding the parcel together. He let out a soft breath of exclamation upon seeing the finished bow, running his finger over the grooves in the center and lifting it reverently to test the draw.

"Made it myself," Fili announced, grinning from ear to ear as he witnessed Kili's delight. He had copied the design of the bow from the one he had originally first purchased, changing the carvings in the center to the symbol his brother had inherited as a prince of the line of Durin.

It was a magnificent piece, and Fili allowed himself a minute to inwardly boast. As he watched Kili examine it with professional critique, approving and praising the graceful weapon, Fili was at last granted the peace of mind he had sought since the tragedy dealt on his brother's birthday. For this moment at least, all was right with the world.

"A pity you will have no chance to use it."

Kili drew in a startled breath and Fili whirled on his heels as a tall figure stepped from the underbrush. Both brothers scrambled to their feet, eliciting a dark chuckle from the Man wreathed in shadow. His drawn bow wavered between the two Dwarves, a jagged, polished arrow gleaming in the sunlight as the hunter determined his trophy.

"I must say, when _dear brother_ dragged me here to _apologize_ to you worthless scum, I never envisioned I would have an opportunity as brilliant as this." Keilan sneered coldly, eyeing his prey with calculative triumph.

Shields of bronze clashed with fiery sheets of ice and Fili stepped closer to his brother as he glowered at the enemy. "What is it you want?"

Unadulterated hate flashed across Keilan's expression before he announced chillingly, "You murdered the closest thing I had to a little brother. I am only returning the favor. Now, then: I have one arrow, and there are two of you. You can stand there like a good little corpse and let me shoot you, or you can have the half-breed go first and take your chance to escape with your life."

Fili snarled at the Man's derisive taunts. He might have attacked in spite of the promise of sure death had not Kili grabbed his arm and yanked him back a pace.

"You will not harm him!" Kili spat, darting forward to stand a little ways in front of his brother. Fili scowled at his show of daring bravado and moved to take the lead once more. If anyone was to die this day, it would not be his little brother.

Keilan shrugged callously and responded, "It matter little to me which of you dies, but make up your mind quickly; I lost my horse further up the trail and I would like to be able to find him again before dark."

His flinty gaze shifted between the brothers. "However... seeing as you appear to have the same foolish belief that you can prevent the other's unfortunate demise, I suppose it matters little which I shoot first."

Fili tensed at his brother's side, placing one hand protectively in front of Kili and passing him a sharp glare as though to say, _If it is to be one of us, you __**will not**__ sacrifice yourself for me._

Kili set his jaw and straightened his shoulders, determination glowing in his eyes like the embers of a forest fire as he deliberately looked away. Keilan sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes.

"Really, are you two so stupidly devoted to one another that this should be a painstaking decision, or do you merely seek to waste my time?" The sunlight drew patterns of shadow across Keilan's face as his eyes narrowed in resolution. "Fine. I shall decide for you, but your blood be upon your own head." His voice rose to the shout, the sorrow and loathing birthed of tragedy ringing clear in his proclamation, "_The murderer shall die first."_

The gleaming tip of the arrow flashed in Fili's direction and for a moment he saw the years flit before his eyes. In that brief instant he experienced two sole thoughts; regret for what he was about to lose, and relief that at least now Kili might have the slimmest chanceto survive.

Suddenly a heavy weight collided with him and Fili was thrown to the side. He collapsed in a tangle of limbs, the breath whooshing from him in a rush just before his head struck a flat stone. For a moment the world pinwheeled into darkness, etching back into startling clarity just as Kili landed on top of him with a muffled grunt.

Before Fili could move his brother launched himself towards Keilan, an inarticulate yell of rage evoked from him as he knocked the hunter off balance and dragged him to the ground. Keilan whipped his bow across Kili's face, a red welt blossoming instantly as the Dwarf's head snapped back. Oblivious to all pain in the state of his rage, Kili slammed his fists into his tormentor's face, the rapid _spat! spat! spat! _of his blows accompanied by Keilan's shout of aggravation as he struggled to hold off the small yet fiercesome opponent while scrambling for a weapon at the same time.

Unable to reach his knife, Keilan threw up one arm to deflect Kili's punches and slammed his forehead against the Dwarf's. Had he known of Dwarven greetings he would have realized such a blow would only injure himself. Kili was unfazed by the attack, yelling a series of curses in Khuzdul as he grappled with the one who had tried to kill his brother. Keilan slammed the heel of his palm against Kili's ear and rolled away as the Dwarf went sprawling. Instantly he drew his knife and dove to his knees to finish the job.

Kili lashed both hands out and grabbed Keilan's wrist, his eyes never wavering from the descending blade as he held back Keilan's attack with alarming strength. Frustrated that his prey was proving so tedious to destroy, Keilan slammed his free hand into the Dwarf's stomach and kicked out at the same time to block the scrabbling boots which bruised his legs and torso.

Fili could barely discern which fighter was which, such was the animalistic frenzy of the scuffle. Kili was a blur of kicks and punches, aiming to destroy the enemy by any means possible. Keilan's movements were calculated and deadly, his lithe agility matching his opponent's superior strength and evening the odds in both their favor. The only matter which decided the course of the battle was the glittering blade of Keilan's knife. As soon as he saw his opening Fili stumbled to his feet and grasped the rock which had nearly catapulted him into oblivion. The forest whirled in a kaleidoscope of green, threatening to spill Fili back into the welcome embrace of the earth as he staggering forward to assist his brother.

Kili was weakening, his arms trembling from exertion as blood streamed from his nose and the corner of his mouth where Keilan had managed to land a blow. In turn Keilan had been forced to abandon his aimed strikes, both hands proving necessary to prevent the Dwarf from turning the jagged blade on its owner. Slowly but surely Kili's grip was failing him, however, and his face was bleached whiter than ash as sweat trickled down his brow and he gasped for breath. Keilan's grin widened and he raised his fist to finish the job, only to whirl to his feet as he glimpsed Fili descending upon him.

Instantly Kili rolled to his side and curled into himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his stomach. His face was drawn with exertion and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, panting for air that would not come. Nonetheless he managed a faint kick at Keilan's ankles, tripping him up just enough that the hunter's kick went wide and brushed Fili's braids instead of slamming into his jaw as was intended.

Fili's aim was true and the rock flew from his hand and slammed into Keilan's eye. An anguished howl was torn from the hunter as he instinctively slapped his hands over the injury. For an instant Fili glimpsed the same bloodlust of the black hound reflected in Keilan's gaze, before the hunter scooped up his saw-bladed knife and swept it underhand to drive under the line of Fili's jaw and deep into his throat.

Fili barely drew his head back in time, the sharp blade gashing his chin and grazing the tip of his nose. The bruises already forming around Keilan's brow gave him a rabid appearance as he brought the knife around for a killing strike.

"Keilan! Keilan, _no!"_

Galloping of hooves thundered into the clearing as a dark haired young man rode into the clearing, his eyes wide with horror as he leaped smoothly from the horse's back. Keilan did not even flinch at the distraction and Fili was forced to dodge to the side and fling out one arm to block the flashing blade. Blood streamed from his wrist as he deflected the knife from plunging into his side. Biting back a wince Fili jammed his elbow into Keilan's nose, smashing the cartilage like dried tinder. Then the trees spiraled in a wave of vertigo and the ground tilted towards him even as Fili staggered to maintain his footing.

"_Keilan!"_

The young hunter swiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, snarling in detest as he brought his leg around and clipped Fili's brow. His dark haired companion ran up behind him and grabbed Keilan's arm, yelping when the hunter lashed out as though possessed and sliced his hand. Grey dots swarmed Fili's vision as Keilan dropped to his knees and dragged the Dwarf back by his ankle, hissing vile curses as he raised his knife to finish the job.

With a look of petrified terror in his stricken blue eyes the other Man grabbed the rock Fili had thrown, hesitating for only one agonizing moment before slamming it into the back of Keilan's head. For an instant Keilan froze, his gaze confused and bewildered with shock, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the ground before the one he had attempted to destroy.

Fili drew heaving gasps of breath, dazed to realize he was still alive. Darkness clouded his sight and he fought it back, stumbling to his hands and knees as he searched for his brother.

"K-Kili? Kili!" As the haze cleared from his vision Fili spotted his brother's crumpled form.

Suddenly he could no longer breathe.

_No, no, not again. Not like this. It cannot be ... Only a dream ... Not now, not when he was just beginning to heal!_

"_Kili!" _Crawling to his brother's side Fili collapsed beside him, gently lifting Kili's limp body into his arms. Kili was breathing shallowly, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and streaming in a line of crimson down his cheek. Fili cried out when his brother's head lolled against his arm, shaking him fervently and shouting his name.

_"Kili!"_ No, don't do this to me again! You're all right! You're all right, do you understand? You're not dying this time! Not when ..." A wave of anger encompassed his fear. He grasped his brother's shoulders and shook him roughly, choking out in fury, "You are not _dying! Do you understand?_ Not when I have just gotten you back, Kili! I will _not_ lose you again!"

A strangled keen was torn from his brother and Kili's expression twisted in agony. He tried to draw his knees up to his body and cried out weakly, dark blood spreading in a widening pool around his torso. Fili's gaze was drawn inescapably to the wound. A fist may well have sunk into his chest and crushed his heart, for he knew the sight would be etched into his memory for eternity.

A single arrow had plunged deeply into his little brother's chest. The shaft had been broken away during the struggle with Keilan, the remainder buried further into Kili's stomach until there was no chance of digging it free. Fili groaned in despair, horror suffocating him in a wave of nausea as he recalled each individual second when Keilan unleashed the arrow and Kili pushed him out of the way.

"_Why, Kili_?"

With a faint moan Kili forced his eyes open a crack, coughing wetly and letting his head fall back against Fili's shoulder. Fili wrapped his arms tighter around his brother, protecting him from an evil which he had already failed to prevent.

"W-as g'nn... kill you," Kili stuttered breathlessly. The light was already fading in his eyes and Fili shook his head in refusal.

"Kili ... stay with me, Kili!"

Kili shuddered as a wave of pain coursed through him, his face drawn in anguish as he cried out, "F-Fi-l-li!"

His right hand clawed at the intrusion tearing apart his insides and Fili grasped his brother's hand and held him tightly through the spasm, tears mingling with the blood slicking his hands as he realized his little brother was slowly dying in his arms.

"It-It will be all right," he choked, swallowing with difficulty and forcing a smile of encouragement. The smile dropped into a grimace and Fili whimpered in the back of his throat, pleading silently as mist clouded the bright obsidian of Kili's eyes. _Please, __Aulë_, not him. Not my baby brother. Take me if one must die today, but spare Kili!

"F-ee...?" Kili whispered, his breathing so shallow it was almost indiscernable now. "D-dy-ing...?"

"No," Fili insisted fervently, clenching his brother's hand in his grip. "You're not going to die, Kili. Thorin will find us ... he can fetch Oin. Just hold on a little longer!"

Weakly Kili squeezed his hand back, blinking slowly and squinting as though his vision had begun to fade. "Y-you... 'kay?"

"I'm _fine_!" Fili exclaimed, desperately listening for the sound of Thorin crashing through the forest to appear at the last moment and save them all. "Stay with me, Kili!"

"K-keep Mum... s-stay..." Another spasm rippled through Kili and his shoulders arched, his eyes wrenched with torment as he begged, "Sta-ay?"

The realization of what his brother was asking smote Fili like a physical blow. _Stay. Don't follow after me. Keep Mum safe. Don't ever leave her._

"I ... I promise," he vowed through a shimmering curtain of tears. _Even if it I can never live again without you by my side, she will not be left alone._

The briefest smile twitched at the corner of Kili's mouth and for a fleeting second Fili glimpsed the impish cheek his brother was so well known for. Breathlessly Kili lisped, "L... love y'..."

Fili could not answer, his heart tearing in two as he saw the light dimming in his brother's eyes. "Kili..."

Like a candle snuffed out in a breeze the flame of his brother's eyes was slowly diminished until it winked out altogether. Suddenly Fili could feel nothing, a numbing horror grasping his soul in a prison cell of muted agony. Should the gates be unlocked Fili knew there would be no chasm in Middle Earth deep enough to measure his pain.

With a soft cry Fili pulled Kili close and pillowed his brother's head against his shoulder, tears running freely down his cheeks in a terrible mirror of that night when he found his brother barely alive on the washed out road. Gently he kissed the top of Kili's head, closing his brother's eyes and stroking back the tattered remains of his clipped hair as though to assure Kili that the enemy was vanquished and no one would ever have reason to torment him again. Fili knew deep down that no one _would _harm his brother now, for Aulë kept his children with far greater security than he could ever have hoped to offer. Kili's life was no longer his to protect, and the thought tore Fili's heart into a thousand irreparable shards.

"Keilan... Keilan, please ... I - I didn't ..." The other Man's wretched voice broke through Fili's own pain and he raised his eyes to see the dark clad stranger kneeling beside the still, wide-eyed corpse of Kili's murderer.

A tender, broken smile creased the other's face as he brushed Keilan's bangs away from his forehead, flexing his hands as though afraid to touch the still-warm body.

"I ... I didn't mean to," he whispered dejectedly, shaking his head with a stricken, bitter smile as though the scene before him was no more than a traumatic dream. "It was an accident!"

With a hoarse croak the Man dropped the blood streaked stone he had not realized was still in his hand. He raked his finger through his hair, backing away from the corpse and shaking his head fervently in disbelief. "It was an _accident_!" he repeated in near hysterics.

He stumbled to fall back against a tree and sank to the ground, raising his hand to his face and staring for a moment at the blood streaked across his palm. He clenched his hand into a fist and pressed it against his forehead, his eyes welded tightly shut and his jaw clenched. His shoulders trembling violently as he rocked back and forth, and Fili knew it was no mere acquaintance who had died this day.

"Your brother?" he questioned raggedly.

With an effort of will the stranger lifted his head, gasping in each breath as though he was drowning and knew not whether he would ever surface from this terrible sea he had been cast into. With the eerie calm of one who realizes they have lost all they had to live for by the stroke of their own hand, he posed, "Do you know ... how much I would have given ... if but for one moment I could know my brother cared for me with _a fraction_ of the devotion your brother showed for you at the last?"

He shook his head, trapped in the plummeting waves of a tragedy he could not fathom. "I never understood him," he whispered. "I never ... never understood."

Fili had no comfort to offer, for there was none even for himself. Kili was dead. Nothing would ever bring him back; not Thorin, nor Oin; not even a wizard could reverse the deed which had been done.

His little brother was gone.

A sharp scream of denial shattered his thoughts and Fili looked up to see D_i_s running towards him. Thorin was right on her heels, failing to pull her back in time in order to warn her of what was ahead. Falling to her knees, D_i_s pushed Fili's hands away and gathered her youngest into her arms. Tenderly she stroked Kili's hair back, softly calling his name as raindrops of crystal streaked through the blood marring his face.

Thorin placed a hand on D_i_s' shoulder in comfort and she yelled and slapped him away. Her eyes were deadened like the cold ashes of a fire extinguished by the rain, and her voice quavered with the broken lilt of a child's lullaby as a piece of her world was taken from her. Fili buried his head in his hands, unable to bear the melancholy notes.

The wind swirled through the trees with song of liberty, and he could imagine that Kili's spirit matched its freedom with equal joy. No thought of Kili's happiness where he was could erase the knifing sorrow in Fili's own heart, however. His life had been given back to him at a cost too high, with the sacrifice of one too precious for him to ever be considered worthy of the exchange.

His brother was lost to him forever. For the first time in his life, Fili was truly alone.

* * *

_15 years later..._

* * *

_The sun shone with dazzling magnificence upon the grass knoll, the warbling of birds accompanying the whisper of mystery carried on the rushing of the wind. The morning was peaceful and tranquil, with an aura of suspense as though all of creation listened with baited breath for the sound of laughter and voices which would never ring through the forest again._

_It was only right that the sun should cascade in all its brilliance on this one day, after weeks of cloudbursts had driven away the thoughts of spring and cheerfulness from those who waited and endured. It was a small consolation for Fili, as he quietly sat carving a shaped block of cedar, that the weather at least would favor his brother on this one day that was most important of all._

_The stone marker below the elm tree was not the tomb Thorin had envisioned for the resting place of his nephew. Such an architecture of remembrance would certainly have been prepared with a score of willing hearts had he but given the command, but Fili would not allow his brother to lie alone in the cold, pitch blackness of the mountains. Kili needed the sunlight and the freedom of the wind as desperately as he had once needed air to breathe, and Fili could not bear the thought of imprisoning him in a timeless, suffocating tomb._

_The meadow overlooked their town was his chosen designation. It was quiet and restful, bordering an excellent viewpoint from which Fili could see home. Kili hated not knowing what was going on. Fili was certain his brother would have wanted this place himself, where he could look down and watch them all go about their business, assuring himself that his family was safe and well in his absence._

_"Mother will be here later," Fili spoke softly, eyeing his carving with a critical air. "She never forgets; you know that. She meant to be here earlier, but ..." He smiled apologetically, the light of humor quenched in his gaze. "Well, Uncle has been holding council as of late, and she had a few words for him this morning."_

_Cedar shavings drifted to the grass, flitting across the meadow on the whim of the breeze. Hesitantly Fili broached the subject he had put off with whimsical conversation bits until now. "Thorin believes that now may be the time to reclaim Erabor. He says that if the signs have been interpreted correctly, then he and all who will follow after him must leave without delay. He ... he asked if I would be willing to accompany him."_

_Fili breathed deeply and tilted his head back with a ragged sigh. "I wish you were here, Kili; you would be ready to leap at a chance to go and prove yourself. I know nothing could have forced you to remain behind ..."_

_Wishes were futile and pointless in this life, but although his pleas would never return his brother it did not hinder Fili from voicing them. He sighed for the emptiness which had swallowed him fifteen years before and never been erased. Shaving a last blemish of wood from the head of the eagle, he blew the slivers away and set it beside its partner, a lone wolf mournfully seeking the pack which had left it behind. _

_Every year without fail, Fili had spent Kili's birthday sitting close by, braving every manner of weather as he crafted a new animal to leave at his brother's tombstone. When the first three carvings had disappeared he had been panicked and angered that someone had dared violate his brother's grave. By the fourth year Fili realized there was a manner of solace in the mysterious vanishings. He never found the real culprit and he never wished to, for in his mind's eye he could watch his kid brother running across the fields, his tangled mop of hair streaming behind him as he shouted, _

_"Fiwi! Fiwi, I foun' anothah one!"_

_Fourteen carvings Fili had left behind in the years before. Tears sparked his eyes as he imagined Kili parading the animals across the windowsill, his large eyes wide in wonder as he tilted his head and interpreted his own unspoken story. _

_Sniffing hard Fili wiped his sleeve across his eyes, a wistful glint in his eyes as he carefully arranged the wolf and the eagle on Kili's tombstone. _

_"One is for this birthday," he explained, indicating the eagle and then pointing out the wolf, "And the other is for next year. Just in case the quest keeps me away longer than expected."_

_Fili winced as a lancing pain gripped his heart and he added, "You understand, don't you? I __**have**__ to go with Thorin. Erabor is our home - or, what should have been our home ... It's up to me as the Heir of Durin to get it back. I promise I will return as soon as it is over. I'll keep up my carvings while I am away ... as many as I can. You might have your own personal army in no time."_

_Yes, an army of rabbits and mice and lions and majestic eagles, all at his kid brother's beck and call. He could almost see the picture clearly; little Kili tramping through the fields with a determined, sullen gleam in his coal dark eyes, as though to ask if it was not perfectly normal for every hare, fox and bird of prey to follow after him like Durin the Deathless, ruler of the animal kingdom._

_The thought was too much for Fili and he rose shakily to his feet, wiping his eyes and biting back the emotions that threatened to bury him alive. _

_"I promise, I'll tell you all about Erabor when I return," he assured. "I care little about the gold... I do not think any of it would matter to you, either, but it will be a good story to pass on to the little ones, don't you think? Perhaps... one day ... when this is all over, my own name will be passed down in the legends ... just like yours."_

_The sun broke over the horizon in a breathtaking curtain of gold, and for an instant all the meadow was hushed as the horizon payed homage to the remaining Heir of the Line of Durin._

_Fili stood with his back to the sun, his shadow cast behind him like a towering warrior in the red tide of battle. By some trick of the light he almost thought he glimpsed a second shadow beside his own, a ragmop of tangled hair shifting in the wind as two inseparable brothers faced the darkness of their unknown future as one. On the ghost of the wind he heard his brother's laughter, and Fili blinked back tears as a genuine, tender smile broke through fifteen years of sorrow that weighed down upon his heart._

_It was Kili's birthday today, and for this one, fleeting moment, Fili was no longer alone._

* * *

_**So close your eyes until tomorrow,**  
_

_**Childhood dreams are always new.**_

_**And if you are there I'll follow,**_

_**And believe that my whole life is you...**_

_** -**_ Transiberian Orchestra, _Time You Should Be Sleeping_

* * *

**Due to the number of reviewers who initially halted at this point, I feel obliged to mention, Read Chapter 12 Before Making Any Assumptions.**

**Thank you. ;)**


	12. Open Your Eyes

Ethereal beams of light streamed through the windows, enveloping the room in a wreath of glory as sunbeams filtered through the leaves of a birch in delicate patterns of green tinted gold.

The return to wakefulness was painful, and Fili dragged his eyes open with an effort that seemed to take years. Grief crashed upon him in a physical wave of lethargy and he hastily blinked out the world once more. It was his duty as Prince, even one in exile, to hide any signs of weakness that would discourage his people, but how Fili longed to escape the empty loneliness for one more day.

Living was perhaps the most agonizing punishment of all. At every turn of the corner Fili imagined his brother's skittering footsteps as Kili was distracted like a crow by every shiny pebble or curious looking insect that caught his eye. Every smile was forced as Fili heard his brother's echoing cackle of mirth. Every minute at home was silently coped, for though the heirs of Durin were a people legendary for the strength of their character it had only been that blithe ray of sunlight which had given them reason to laugh in face of their adversity. Now only darkness shrouded those who remained, and sometimes Fili wondered if he would ever have reason to smile again. Fifteen years had passed, and he still did not know how to exist without his brother.

Daylight could no longer be thwarted, however, and soon enough Thorin would be pounding on the door for Fili to stop moping around and move on with his life. No words would be spoken; the hammering of his fist would be indication enough. That was the extent of Thorin's conversation since Kili's death, and no one begrudged him for it. They all had their own ways of coping with their grief.

Sighing dismally, Fili forced his eyes open once more. It took him a moment to adjust to the sight of his room; the pattern of veiled green reflected on his wall from the open window, his swords, axe and hammers hunt neatly on individual pegs, a stick-figure drawing Kili had made of his kitten Mewy when he was ten summers old; tacked up where Fili could glance at it frequently and remember, a trunk engraved with stories of their past resting against the opposite wall, his brother slouched in a chair across from him snoring, his books and scrolls neatly aligned on a shelf above the bed, a simple -

Fili's mind reeled to a halt and he bolted upright, his breath leaving him in a rush of as he stared at the slumbering form of his little brother. Kili was hunched awkwardly into a chair, one leg drawn up in front of him and his head resting on his upraised hand as he remained oblivious to his brother's panic.

For a moment Fili could only watch Kili as his heart was rent within him. He yearned for nothing more than for the illusion to be true, but such a longing would never come to pass. Painfully Fili slumped back onto the covers, knowing that the instant he reached out to wake his brother Kili would vanish before his eyes. Nothing in his dreams ever changed.

Kili snorted lightly in his sleep, one foot twitching spasmodically as his dreams were disturbed. The simple act reminded Fili starkly of the days when his brother was still alive, and he instantly squeezed his eyes shut and willed the vision away. Had he not suffered enough already? Why could he not force himself awake?

Kili's right foot slipped off the edge of the chair and he startled awake, shaking his head in dazed befuddlement and brushing his straggly hair out of his face. His eyes lit on Fili and Kili's features lit up, all signs of exhaustion eradicated as he bounded off the chair and knelt by Fili's side.

"Fili!" he hissed in a loud, exuberant whisper, "You're awake!" He glanced hurriedly over his shoulder and lifted a finger to his lips, adding, "Shh! Mum's talking to Oin right now; I'm not supposed to be disturbing you."

Fili drew back with an expression of horror, shaking his head and mentally commanding the nightmare to end.

The glimmer of excitement faded in Kili's eyes and he questioned in a hurt voice, "Fili?"

The tone of betrayal was too much for him, and with a muffled cry of loss Fili pushed the illusion of his brother aside and stumbled out of bed. He took only two strides forward before the room tilted alarmingly. Reeling slightly, he forced himself to proceed, ignoring Kili's indignant squawk as his brother leaped to his feet and followed after him.

"What did I do, Fili? - Wait - Fili! - Mother will have my head if she finds out I woke you!"

Ghosts did not normally squabble over whether or not D_i_s would murder them for uncouth behavior - especially when that ghost was the one of his long dead brother. Kili should have vanished by now, or at least stared at him pleadingly until blood spilled from his torso and painted the floor crimson, just before the light died in his brother's eyes for eternity.

"Fili, would you sit back down before you give yourself another concussion? Mum is in a tizzy and Oin said if you hit your head again you're likely to - _Fili!"_

Fili did not heed the prattling spirit, reaching for the doorknob to escape the close confines of his room. He should speak to Oin about the disturbing clarity of these visions; perhaps after fifteen years he was finally losing his mind.

"_**Fili!**_" Kili skidded in front of him to block the door, glaring at Fili with a vehemence worthy of rivaling Thorin's glare. "_Sit down_! Or I'll tell Oin you're being an idiot and make him give you some of that foul, green muck he forced down my throat during my illness."

Fili stopped dead in his tracks, staring at his brother as though seeing Kili for the first time. Bruises darkened the right side of Kili's jaw and cheekbone, and his lower lip was puffy and split as though struck with a crushing blow. He had the lingering squint of a painful looking black eye and he wobbled slightly as though off balance. Bandages had been wound around the knuckles of Kili's right hand, the left newly splint and supported by a sling. An angry looking gash in his cheek had been neatly stitched, matching a slightly deeper scratch on his neck. It was the dark marks of fingerprints around his brother's neck that caused Fili to clench his fists again a wave of injustice, however, for even in his dreams his brother could not escape his torment.

The pleading in Kili's gaze was not for himself, however, as though he were begging that Fili would somehow end his torture and give him the peace he could no longer attain. His dark eyes searched Fili's face with quiet fervency, imploring his brother to assure him that _Fili_ was all right; that _Fili_ was merely acting out of character due to his injuries and he would startle back to himself moments later.

It was in that instant the revelation fully struck that Kili was unmistakably, irrevocably _alive_.

Fili found himself edging back slowly, his eyes never leaving Kili's even as he steered clear of his brother.

"Fili?" Kili spoke again, worry shimmering in his gaze as he tracked his brother's cautious retreat.

"You _died_," Fili whispered, shaking his head once more. His heart longed to accept what was before his eyes, but his mind screamed in denial at the impossibility.

A flash of disappointment sparked in Kili's eyes and he sighed. "Oin was worried about this. I never died, Fili. You pulled me out of the lake in time; remember? Thorin - "

"No, no, you don't _understand_!" Fili shouted. Kili blanched under his rebuke but Fili could not hold back any longer. Fifteen years of lingering agony and loneliness rose up in a swell of desperation until Fili thought he would drown in his sorrow. _"Fifteen years_ you have been dead, Kili! You ... He s_hot_ you!"

Fili swallowed against the lump in his throat, unable to believe he was describing Kili's murder to his kid brother who was supposed to have passed away long ago. "You... you saved my life. I held you ... as you breathed your last, Kili. I watched you die, all over again. I - I couldn't save you! And this time," he said raggedly, his tormented eyes sparkling with unshed tears, "This time you never came back."

"Fili..." Kili said cautiously, regarding his brother warily as though he was speaking to a cornered animal, "No one was killed during the conflict."

"Do not look at me as though I have lost my mind!" Fili ordered harshly. "I _know_ what I saw!"

Kili's eyes were wide with concern and he reached out to grasp Fili's shoulder, wincing as his brother drew away. His gaze was destitute as he sank down to rest on the carved trunk, rubbing his left shoulder insecurely as he contemplated the matter.

"I think ... perhaps you saw something differently from what took place," he considered. He was hasty to assure, "I do believe you, Fili; when I was ill my dreams took me to scenarios I had never envisioned possible, and never wanted to see again. But..."

With a frown Kili picked at the bandages covering of his left hand, his brow furrowed in his own grim recollections. Fili sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him with haunted disbelief, still unable to grasp that his brother might truly be _alive _and speaking with him at this moment.

"When Keilan was threatening us in the forest ... do you remember that?" Kili questioned guardedly. Fili nodded in numbed confirmation and Kili proceeded on, "He tried to kill you, Fili. I pushed you out of the way, and ..." He worried his nails with his thumb, his expression dark with a memory he did not wish to revisit. "I was not watching what I was doing. You struck your head on a rock, Fili. There ... there was blood ... everywhere."

Flinching as he remembered, Kili quietly admitted, "I thought I had killed you, Fili. You've been unconscious for two days now."

The blood drained from Fili's expression as the implications set in. "Then ... it was all a dream?"

It could not have been an illusion conjured from his mind. Fifteen years was too long to pack into forty-eight hours of delirium.

Kili nodded somberly and Fili for once did not know how to react. He wanted to reach out and denounce the guilt plaguing his brother's eyes, but he was afraid that the slightest touch would shatter a dream into reality and he would be forced to endure the remainder of his life with only the bitter knowledge of Kili's sacrifice.

"What happened?" he questioned hoarsely, not certain he wanted to know but unable to bear the suspense any longer.

"He did find us; Keilan, I mean," Kili enlightened, hesitating to continue. "In the forest near the archery grounds... just after you had given me my bow. He apprehended us... ordered us to choose which of us would have the chance to survive, and then ... then he tried to kill you."

Muted embers flickered in his gaze as Kili was helplessly drawn back to a time he no longer wished to remember.

* * *

_"Really, are you two so stupidly devoted to one another that this should be a painstaking decision, or do you merely seek to waste my time?" The sunlight drew patterns of shadow across Keilan's face as his eyes narrowed in resolution. "Fine. I shall decide for you, but your blood be upon your own head." His voice rose to the shout, loathing twisting his expression as he proclaimed, "The murderer shall die first!"_

_Even before the bow shifted in Fili's direction, Kili somehow __**knew**__. He moved on instinct, barreling into his brother and shoving him out of danger's path. The deadly projectile hissed through the air, a sharp pain lancing the side of his neck as the arrow's razor edge sliced across his skin. _

_Kili let out an 'oof!' as the air rushed from his lungs, mentally apologizing to his brother for landing on top of him. Behind him Keilan cursed vilely, his burning gaze tracking the lost arrow's flight before it settled with unrequited malice on Kili. Recognizing his peril, Kili scrambled to his hands and knees and dove for the bow Fili had given him minutes before._

_Keilan noticed the discarded weapon at the same time, three long strides carrying him the distance to the perceived threat. Just as Kili's left hand closed around the slender wood a boot smashed down on his fist, snapping bone and splitting flesh. Kili screamed and yanked against the weight holding him down, kicking wildly at Keilan's heels and thrashing to get away. _

_Fili! Where was Fili? Surely his brother would be assisting him if he were able. A glance to the side stilled Kili's struggles with a whimper as he realized Fili had never moved from where he had fallen. Blood glistened upon the stone where he had struck his head, and the terrible accusation knifed through Kili at the sight. Surely he had not..._

_**No ... please ...**_

_Keilan sneered, chuckling coldly as he ground his foot down and flipped a knife from his belt. __**His**__ knife. The one Fili had given Kili years before when his brother had first started to work in the forges. The taunting laughter, the uncertainty whether or not his brother was still alive (and he __**was**__; Kili refused to believe otherwise), and the further injustice of his own blade being used against him stoked the embers of Kili's fury into a raging inferno._

_His right hand closed around a stone and Kili wrenched to the side and slammed it against Keilan's knee. He had wielded hammers of greater weight with less effort, and the petty rock needed little exertion on Kili's part as the solid weapon struck and shattered bone. Keilan screamed and collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony even as his eyes flared with enmity. Kili did not wait for him to recover, throwing himself at the hunter and smashing his right fist repeatedly into the detestable face which had haunted his nightmares for too long. _

_With every blow he envisioned Fili's fear-ridden, traumatized blue eyes the day he realized that Kili had not been killed after all. The memory which incited Kili most, however, was that of Fili's still, pale face as he lay eerily quiet where he had fallen, blood trickling down his forehead to splash crimson on the emerald grass. Howling in rage at the image, Kili bashed his fist into Keilan's jaw, the pain from his torn and bloodied knuckles barely noticeable in his fervor to avenge his brother. _

_No creature is more deadly than an animal which has been wounded, and like a predator maddened with pain Keilan's mind only grasped one thought; the unmerciful annihilation of the enemy. Instinct overruled calculation and with a snarl Keilan smashed his elbow into Kili's cheek, splitting a molar tooth and opening a wide gash in the Dwarf's lower lip. Kili faltered in a wave of vertigo and Keilan flung him onto the ground, slamming his hand against the Dwarf's throat and pressing him into the dust. His knife flashed in his hand and Keilan smote downwards, no longer desiring to toy with his prey. It would be finished here and now; he would not suffer the filthy mud rat another chance to land a blow. _

_Kili ceased grappling with the hand closing off his air supply, lashing out to halt the blade's descent. The strength of the Dwarves oft surpasses that of Men, but Kili was weakened from the lingering wounds and the weeks of inactivity during his recovery. A curtain of grey hazed his sight and he twisted under Keilan's grip, silently screaming for release as his lungs protested their starvation._

_His grip slipped and the edge of the knife gashed Kili's cheek, blood streaming from the raw wound as Keilan wrenched free and lifted the crimson stained blade for a final strike. Blackness was descending rapidly and with a grimace of desperation Kili raised his foot and kicked out at Keilan's shattered knee. The hunter yowled as bone grated against nerves and his concentration slipped just long enough for Kili to move._

_With the last of his strength Kili wrench his opponent's wrist to the side, plunging the knife into the hand clenched around his throat. Instantly Keilan yanked away and Kili drew in a blessed, painful gasp of sweet, pure air. He tolled to his hands and knees and clutched his throat, gagging for breath. An instant later he cried out as a blunt object connected with the back of his head. _

_Reeling in a daze, Kili fell onto his side and clutched the lump near the base of his neck. Tacky blood coated his fingertips and he blearily watched as Keilan dropped the stone Kili had struck him with originally. The hunter snatched the bow he had brought with him and snapped it over his good knee, selecting the longest spearlike shaft and lurching forward. His eyes rabid with the fires of vengeance, Keilan grasped a handful of Kili's hair and dragged him to an upright position even as the Dwarf tried to scramble away. His makeshift spear lifted high, Keilan smile coldly as though to give his final farewell. _

_A thousand hammers assaulted his skull and his hand throbbed where white bone had stabbed through flesh. Even so Kili snarled in a last act of defiance, despising the fact that the enemy would triumph yet refusing to be cowed in the face of death. Shields of bronze clashed with fiery coals and for an instant the world seemed to hush in a __requiem __of suspense._

_The solid __**thunk**__ of metal in flesh was punctuated by Keilan's screams as scarlet blossomed from the back of his shoulder where a knife was buried to the hilt in muscle and bone. With a terrible cry Keilan wrenched away from his quarry, clawing at the wound and thrashing on the ground as the combination of his ravaged shoulder, wrist and knee threw him into a convulsion of agony._

_The loathing in Keilan's expression was no match for the fury that glittered in D_i_s' eyes as she darted from the cover of the trees, Thorin close on her heels. Kili swore for a moment that the his Uncle's rage was almost kind compared to the raw hatred in D_i_s' eyes as she grabbed a sizeable rock and slammed it against Keilan's cheek. _

_The hunter gurgled in anguish, spitting out blood and three broken teeth as he attempted to drag himself away. His eyes were filled with wild terror, and for the first time he experienced the helplessness of one who was left at the mercy of a stronger foe. Thorin's gaze was pitiless as he stood above the hunter, but Keilan's pride would not allow him to scream for help even now. _

_"Wait!"_

_Underbrush crackled under pounding hooves as a grey horse burst into the clearing, the rider swinging off in panicked urgency and starting towards the group. _

_"I'm not here to hurt anyone!" he stated at once, holding his hands in the air to indicate he intended no harm. "My name is Logan; the one at your feet is my younger brother. Please. Listen to me before you destroy him."_

_"This is your brother?" Thorin questioned darkly, sinking his hammer into the ground by Keilan's head and regarding Logan with glowering accusation._

_"Keilan," Logan affirmed, glancing towards his brother and swallowing convulsively before meeting Thorin's eyes. "I assure you, I had no foreknowledge of what he intended to do. If I had known, I would never have brought him here. He told me he would turn himself in; I had no way of realizing he would betray me."_

_Keilan snarled and scrabbled his fingers into the dust, his pitiful struggle earning no sympathy from his brother this time._

_"I know I have no reason to plead for his life," Logan said with forced calm. "His crimes are unforgivable and I cannot repair the damage he left behind. Allow me to beg of you his life, however, even if he deserves no less than your determined justice."_

_"Why should you defend him?" Thorin demanded, his eyes glowing with malice as his gaze flitted between the unconscious Fili and Kili, who had slumped into D_i_s' arms and could barely keep his eyes open. _

_Logan rubbed his hands together and whetted his lips nervously, nodding sharply in assent. "There is no excuse for what he has done," he agreed, "But grant me the chance to explain my reasoning. Understand me when I say you will gain nothing in Keilan's death. If you kill him now, there are others who will bring it as a charge against you. Even if I said nothing word would spread, and you will be labeled as murderers among your people and mine. _

_"If he lives," Logan continued logically, "He will carry this lesson with him for the rest of his life. You know yourself that whether or not he changes for the better, he will always remember the Line of Durin with fear." _

_Fervently Logan requested, "I swear by whatever vows you consider to hold true, that if you allow me to take Keilan away from here he will never set foot in your land again. I in turn will not breathe a word of what has taken place. I will not forestall your judgement; I only ask that you spare my brother's life." _

_Roiling clouds of thunder darkened Thorin's expression and his grip tightened around his hammer until his knuckles turned white. He glanced surreptitiously to D_i_s and Kili and then to Fili, his thoughts warring against one another. Logan remained outwardly calm, but his hands flexed anxiously and he fidgeted in the gnawing suspense._

_Even in the face of certain death, Keilan acknowledged no victor. He glowered up at Thorin and spat blood on the leader's boots. Past his swollen mouth he lisped a curse upon the Dwarven race, hissing in repulsion as he resigned himself to his fate. Clearly he had determined his final act would be one of antipathy against those he had chosen to despise, and Kili shuddered to imagine how deeply ingrained that hatred must be. _

_Kili's gaze flitted to Fili at the gruesome reminder of Keilan's vengeance. His brother had not stirred since he had fallen, and an unspoken fear clenched Kili's heart in an icy grip. He leaned away from D_i_s and tried to pull himself forward, determined to reach Fili even if he had to crawl the entire way. D_i_s only stiffened and held him tighter, however, her eyes never leaving Thorin. Kili was consumed with the agony of not knowing and he whimpered in the back of his throat, struggling weakly and imploring D_i_s to permit him to see if his brother was still alive._

_Thorin silently regarded Kili's desperation to free himself, comparing it against his will to the abject terror filtering through the disguised serenity of Keilan's elder brother. Something shifted in his perception and without a word he raised his hammer. Logan flinched and shut his eyes, his hand straying towards the knife in his belt before he rigidly restrained himself. The mallet swung down as though in slow motion, its weighted arc seeming to take an eternity to sweep through the air. _

_Suddenly Kili could watch no longer; not for the promise of Keilan's death, but for the hopeless loss wrenching Logan's eyes as he forced himself to turn away. Kili hid his face in D_i_s' arm and gasped sharply as the hammer slammed down with a sickening __**crack**__. _

_The ragged wail which followed caused a flock of crows to seek refuge in the sky. Keilan's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell limply against the earth. Thorin hefted his hammer to the side and tossed it away in revulsion, stepping out of the way as Logan darted forward. With dread seeping into his heart Kili dared to peek and he instantly winced at the sight._

_Keilan's his left leg was stretched out before him, the bones below his knee mangled and crushed beyond repair. He was unconscious, but Thorin had heard the pleas of one who called himself __**brother**__ and allowed his enemy to live. _

_Logan's trepidation was __palpable__ as he gently lifted Keilan's head, touching a finger to the pulse on his brother's neck and closing his eyes in relief when he found what he was seeking. Gingerly he lifted Keilan into his arms, his expression torn with compassion in spite of his own admission that his brother deserved none of his pity._

_"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely, nodding solemnly to Thorin in respect. _

_No further words could Logan force through his turmoil, but his earnest gaze reflected his gratitude. Carefully he settled his inert brother onto his horse, swinging up behind him and clacking his tongue to urge the mare into a gallop. _

_As though a spell had been broken with Logan's departure, the stillness was shattered as Thorin ran to Fili's side. Before Kili could move to accompany him D_i_s clutched him tighter to herself, trembling in the wake of the near-disaster. She stroked Kili's hair as though to assure herself her son was still alive, kissing the top of his head and whispering, "I thought I had lost you."_

_Part of Kili yearned to comfort her and for a moment he remained still in her arms. A greater part of him screamed to know if Fili had survived, however, and he struggled anew to see his brother. With a dismal sigh D_i_s released him, helping him to his feet and supporting him as his legs threatened to give way. _

_Kili did not dare look at Thorin as he lurched to Fili's side, terrified at what he might see. He crumpled to his knees and grabbed Fili's hand, paling at the sheer amount of drying blood on his brother's face. Desperately he looked to Thorin, pleading wordlessly that it was not true._

_**'It was an accident! I didn't mean to ... surely I did not...'**_

_A keen was forced from his throat and Kili shook his head in denial, every second of the fall replaying through his mind in cruel detail. He had tried to save his brother from Keilan's vengeance; he had not meant to hurt him! A choked gasp escaped him and suddenly Kili could not breathe. He gaped uselessly for air, black dots swimming before his eyes as a wave of panic swept him into a vast ocean of despair._

_His brother could not be gone. Not because of him - it was an accident! Surely Fili would open his eyes any minute now and smack him over the head for being an idiot. He could not be lying here; so still and silent as though he were already laid out for the grave._

_Kili softly wailed and pushed Thorin away from his brother, ignoring his Uncle's shout of protest at his violent reaction. He gathered Fili into his arms, scrutinizing his face with wild, searching eyes as he sought the faintest sign of life. D_i_s sucked in a sharp breath and suddenly her arms were around Kili, restraining him gently as she whispered,_

_"It is all right, Kili, he is still with us."_

_His panic instantly drained to be replaced with exhaustion and Kili slumped in his Mother's embrace. He was inexplicably tired, his body craving rest after so much excitement too soon after his recovery. Thorin brushed himself off ruefully and reached to take Fili away, ignoring his nephew's frantic protests. __ Kili had no strength left to fight his Uncle and he chose to rebuke him __dourly __with his dark glare._

_Then Thorin stepped out of his sight and Kili's world careened to a halt, fear for his brother mingling with the pain of his injuries until the forest pieced into shards of emerald light and Kili gladly welcomed the comforting embrace of unconsciousness._

* * *

"For two days you did not move," Kili whispered, his gaze tortured as he stared at the floor. "I thought I had killed you at first." He pressed his knuckles to his mouth, sick at the prospect. "I never could have forgiven myself if I had."

Fili did not respond and Kili looked up uncertainly, no knowing what to expect. In an instant he was on his feet and bounding across the room to sit beside his brother. He wrapped his arms tightly around Fili, holding him close as the elder wept. Fili sobbed as though his heart had been shattered a thousand times over, only for him to awaken to the revelation that the shards had been welded back together against all belief that hope could never be regained.

"I thought - I thought I had lost you!" Fili stuttered, clinging to his brother as though to prevent him from drifting away like a wisp of a dream carried on the wind. He clenched his hand in the fabric of Kili's sleeve, ordering raggedly, "Don't you e_ver_ do that to me again, Kili! Don't you ever leave me!"

"I won't," Kili assured quietly. "I'm right here. I'm not going away."

He glanced up as the door cracked open and D_i_s peeked inside, her eyes lighting up upon seeing Fili awake. The somberness of the moment was not lost to her, however, and when Kili cast her a sharp glare and swung his head for her to give them some privacy she quietly slid the door shut once more.

Kili intended to fully apologize for such a rude dismissal of his Mother at a later time, but for now his brother needed his undivided attention. He could not imagine what Fili must have endured with the belief that his brother was dead and he must go through life alone. Kili had been terrified that he might have killed Fili when his brother had struck his head, and that single moment alone had almost broken him beyond repair. The strength his older brother had; to continue on through his mind's depiction of fifteen years of guilt and loneliness ... One year - one _day_ - without his brother would have been too much for Kili.

"You are never setting foot outside this house without me," Fili commanded in a choked voice as he at last began to rein his emotions under control. "Preferably not without Uncle Thorin or Dwalin there to protect your scrawny neck at all times."

Kili chuckled and parried, "Only if you wear promise to wear a pillow strapped to your thick skull from now on. No wonder Thorin never let us practice Mister Balin and Mister Dwalin's form of greeting."

Fili's bark of laughter broke off in a sob and he shuddered silently in his brother's arms. Ages seemed to pass and neither spoke, the younger taking the role of the comforter as the elder crumpled in the wake of his pain.

"Thorin, don't you _dare _go in there!"

D_i_s' heated whisper broke through the solemn moment as the door creaked open. Fili and Kili glanced up as one as Thorin cast a miffed glare over his shoulder before looking inside and nodding tentatively to his nephews.

"Boys," he greeted gruffly. He shifted from one foot to the other as though wondering if he should make a hasty retreat.

Fili found himself smiling like an idiot, laughter rising up in him as he soaked in the image of his Uncle; vivacious, proud and hopelessly awkward as he had once remembered. Gone was the calloused, stone-hearted personage of his nightmare, and Fili had never been more grateful to acknowledge the end of a dream.

His laughter was contagious and Kili joined in, not understanding what the point of the jest was but reveling in his brother's happiness all the same. For too long they had endured the trials of Keilan's wrath. The defeat of their enemy had brought with it hope for a brighter future, the dread of the storm washed away in a glorious burst of sunrise.

D_i_s shoved Thorin out of the way and swept inside, embracing both her sons and holding them close to her heart. Fili fought back tears once again, this time from pure joy. The sound of Kili's infectious laughter was a delight he never thought he would experience again. Ruffling Kili's hair the moment D_i_s gave them room to breathe, Fili chuckled and dragged his brother into as tight a hug as he could manage without worsening Kili's injuries.

Thorin had drawn near during the commotion and he now stood close by with his arms folded loosely, watching the trio with calm fulfillment. He nodded with pride when Fili looked his way, warmly acknowledging his return.

"Welcome back."

* * *

_"You're lucky to be alive, you know."_

_Logan slammed the door closed as soon as the healer left, casting a scalding glance in Keilan's direction before crouching to pile more wood on the meager fire. He grimly scanned the furnishings of the room, mentally determining what they could take and what should be left behind. As soon as Keilan could endure the long journey by wagonride without the risk of losing his leg entirely they would leave the village for good._

_Keilan, his brain too hazy with pain medications to think up a proper response and his mouth to swollen to deliver a retort, chose instead to glower fiercely in his brother's direction. The challenge was unheeded and Logan continued to scold._

_"If I ever hear one more word against the Dwarves, __**one **__derisive term coming from your mouth ever again, I swear to you I will break your jaw myself and save them the trouble."_

_Logan paced feverishly as he spoke, rummaging through the house and tossing odd trinkets into the fire or piling them in the corner of the room for the neighbors to quibble over when they were gone. He knew he had to do __**something**__ or else go mad from the outrage and hurt assaulting him in waves every time his mind was drawn back to the cruelty he had seen dealt by his brother. _

_The betrayal of his trust was like a twisted blade in his heart every time Logan thought of Keilan's tears and his f__**oolish, stupid**__ gullibility in believing his brother had repented of his deeds. The sight that had greeted him when he rode into the forest haunted him to no end. Every time he shut his eyes he saw Keilan writhing on the ground in agony, or the icy fury of the woman as she held the wounded one with fierce protectiveness, or the blazing contempt of Thorin Oakenshield as he spared Keilan's life and condemned him to what might be considered a crueler fate._

_"He'll never gain full use of that leg," the healer had informed Logan as the young man slipped him an extra handful of silver to keep silence regarding the matter. "Ye'd be better off cuttin' it off now... save yeh a lot of trouble."_

_But Logan could not condemn his brother to the life of an invalid. A cripple he would always be, but if the fates smiled kindly upon his brother perhaps Keilan would still be able to limp around with a cane in the future. He might die of the humiliation, but he would still have a shred of the independence he so craved. __**If**__, that is, Logan ever allowed him out of the house unaccompanied during the next fifty years._

_"Heard that Lake Town is quite nice around this time of year," Logan quipped testily, tossing a delicate teacup that had once belonged to their Mother into the corner and barely flinching as it shattered. "Far enough away from Dwarves, Elves and whatever race you deem unworthy of your company. I could probably find work there; a trader mentioned they always are in need of raftsmen."_

_Keilan growled in the back of his throat and Logan cast him a look of sarcastic pity. "My apologies. I forgot you have no way of voicing your objections. Worry not; I have already made up my mind for us both. Bilch has offered me a wagon, horses and any supplies necessary to cut the costs of purchasing our farm. You'll ride in style, brother; just like you always wanted."_

_A bottled of salve the healer had left was swiped off the table, followed by a grunt of pain from Keilan as his arm protested the sudden movement. Logan ignore his brother's tantrum and calmly continued on his tirade. _

_"Maybe I can even find a wife; someone with a stubborn streak and as sharp a tongue as yours who can put up with you. I would hate to be here to witness the battle should you need her care while you are healing, though, so try not to agitate your injuries any further than necessary."_

_Keilan garbled curses behind the bandages wound around his head and Logan smiled bitterly, shaking his head. _

_"I trusted you," he whispered. He tossed a carved wolf his little brother had once treasured into the air, catching it deftly and aiming to throw it into the fire in disgust. At the last moment he hesitated, examining the piece with wistful longing before slipping it covertly into his pocket. _

_Never again could he believe that Keilan was incapable of the atrocities Logan had once only associated with goblins alone. He had never really understood his brother, and now he wondered if he had ever known anything about Keilan at all. The thought was like the fresh pang of a wound and Logan slammed his fist into the mantelpiece to numb the pain he felt inside. Tears gathered in his eyes as he stared into the flames, wondering if he had ever really __**had**__ a little brother, or if he had merely envisioned the prospect to soothe his own heartache. _

_If that were so then it was the worst thought of all, for it meant that Logan was truly alone._

* * *

_Four Months Later..._

* * *

Fili yelped as Kili barreled past him, helpless to save himself as his brother grabbed his arm and pelted down the cobbled lane. Passerbyers lunged to evade the sprinting Dwarves, a number of shopkeepers swearing in the most outrageous terms as their business was disrupted.

"Kili!" Fili panted, throwing up an arm to protect himself as a flustered chicken flew towards his head. "What are we running from?"

"Don't talk!" Kili called back over his shoulder. "Just keep going!"

Angry shouts resounded behind them and Fili risked a glance over his shoulder. He yipped in surprise as he caught sight of the furious expression of Kili's pursuer, and with a burst of renewed speed he surged ahead. Now Kili was the one being dragged behind his panicked sibling, and despite his brother's protests Fili had no intent of slowing down in the least.

Goats and ducks scattered in the path, their herders shaking their fists at the rampart brothers as they fled for their lives. Feathers were sticking out of Fili's hair and Kili's hood was coated with flour. How his brother had managed to run with one hand keeping his hood in place and the other pulled out in front of him was beyond Fili's comprehension, but he had no time to question the matters of logic.

"What on ... earth did you do to upset him?" Fili gasped.

"Nothing!" Kili squeaked, almost falling flat on his face as he tripped over a wagon tongue.

"_Nothing _is about to get us killed!" Fili fired back. He swerved into an alley and yanked Kili after him, pressing flat against the wall and watching with baited horror as their pursuer drew closer.

Near the entrance of the alley their pursuer paused and glanced around, his face livid with animosity. Kili whimpered and plastered himself further against the wall, bending his knees slightly so that he could effectively hide behind his brother.

With a last growl of frustration Nori sheathed his knives and stomped away, his boots squelching with pond water. A tadpole slithered out of his sopping knot of hair and writhed pitifully on the ground before Kili darted out and rescued it, slipping it into a tankard of ale for the next unsuspecting victim.

"What did you **do**?" Fili interrogated, wiping chaff from his sleeves and cursing the hayloft his brother had nearly flung them both into.

"I didn't do anything!" Kili defended himself. He cringed under Fili's glare and buried his hands deeply in his pockets, dragging his foot across the ground as he muttered, "Maybe I ... accidentally startled him while he was teaching Ori how to swim ... And I might have given him an extra helpful shove..."

Fili groaned and rubbed his temples, shaking his head at his brother's uncanny ability to flaunt death. "One of these days you are going to find yourself in over your head."

"Nah, that was Nori's fate," Kili jested, clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter.

"You _idiot_!" Fili chuckled, slapping his brother over the head and mussing his hood.

Kili yelped in surrender and ducked away, hastily rearranging the fabric before the ragged patch of his shorter hair could be revealed. Fili sighed at his brother's impulsive reaction. He understood the reasoning behind Kili's mortification and he could not chide him for it, but he did wish they could step out of the house for five minutes without Kili hiding away like a schizophrenic ranger.

"How long do you intend to wear that?" Fili questioned. "It's the middle of summer, Kili; you're as likely to die of heatstroke at this rate."

Kili's mirth died and he clamped his mouth shut, his eyes riveted straight ahead as he strode away. "Four more years, Fili," he answered in a clipped tone. "Or at least until I can trim both sides to look a little more even."

Fili knew by now that he could not dissuade his brother, but all the same he was frustrated by this constant game Kili thought he was pulling off. "Everyone knows about it by now, Kili," he pointed out sensibly. "No one thinks lesser of you for what happened."

"Stop it, Fili," Kili bit back a snap. "You promised we would never speak of it."

Fili threw his hands in the air and gave up with a sigh. Fine. If little brother wanted to sulk under his hood for the rest of his life, who was he to try and help? Perhaps a few broiling days would change Kili's mind if kindly advice availed little.

A hand lashed out at that moment and yanked Kili's hood back, the young Dwarf slamming to a halt as Thorin strode briskly past him.

"You are a Prince of the line of Durin." Thorin did not even bother to look back over his shoulder as he spoke. Unspoken was the command, _Act like one._

Kili gaped in dumbfounded silence for a moment. Something shifted in his expression and he lifted his chin defiantly, a fire lighting in his eyes as he straightened his shoulders and followed in the footsteps of his King.

Fili was struck speechless for a moment, stunned by the abrupt reversal of Kili's behavior. With a small grin of triumph he shook himself out of his daze and hurried forward to walk at his brother's side, feeling as though for the first time everything was as it should be.

The sun blazed down upon the small town in the Blue Mountains, outlining the shadows of all who passed by. For an instant a dazzling ray lit upon the Sons of Durin, emblazoning them in a wreath of pride and glory as together they set off for the light and comforts of home.

* * *

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_Finis._

_._

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* * *

**And that is officially the end! **

**The Mini-muse squeals in happiness and squeezes its Kili plushie half to death, before the Original Muse rolls its eyes and flicks Mini-muse off the desk.**

**The author thanks the readers for all their support and for not _quite_ murdering the Muses upon last chapter's epic tragedy. I was astounded at how many people still loved the story despite its sudden twist! Thank you for all your encouraging comments and detailed reviews (and for feeding the Muses, as they would like to add!). XD **


	13. Avarice Ch 1: The Breaking

This was meant to be a Oneshot. It is not. I fall on my knees and apologize to the readers of NCHY, but the Muses have been crying for a sequel since before I started my other story. They would not be held back any longer. I think... this will be about 2-3 chapters. Hopefully.

**A Prince's Disgrace Short Sequel:**

**Title: **Avarice

**Description: ** As the armies herald for war and Thorin struggles with the gold madness, an old foe determines a more persuasive tactic to procure the treasure of the Lonely Mountain, and at the same time enact a lasting vengeance against his chosen enemy.

As always, no slash. **Angst Warnings! **Darker plot theme, with a silver light at the end.

Neocolai does not own the Hobbit or anything related to Tolkein's works. (Which is a good thing, as Fili and Kili would have died, re-died, and died again from all the grievous wounds inflicted. And Thorin would have had a heart attack from grief.) : /

* * *

"_**Do you really think he will return for you?" **_

_**Candlelight flickered off the walls in a reddish glow, casting a burnished pallor on the features of the prisoner. The clink of manacles magnified in the stone walls of the cell as he shifted. Fili blinked warily in the faint light, eyes straining to adapt after the close darkness of the windowless tomb. **_

_**His captor had been cautious. Escape was not an option in his regard. One clasp of thick iron had been secured around each of Fili's wrists and then attached to a short chain bolted firmly to the wall. The circles of metal were encrusted to his skin where he had struggled for hours, blood dimming to a rusty brown and glittering in the light of the candle. Still he raised his head in defiance, refusing to be cowed.**_

"_**He gave you up rather easily, compared to what I anticipated. What makes you so sure he will want you back? He has moved on; you are alone."**_

_**He could not see the face of his captor, though the malice in his light hearted tone was clear enough. Still he forced his expression to remain still. He was not afraid of Man's lies.**_

"_**He did not even flinch when your brother screamed his name."**_

_**It was a lie, yet at the calloused reference to Kili he could hold back no longer. With a shout of rage Fili lunged towards his captor, ignoring the knives of pain lancing up his torn wrists as he struggled wildly against the chains holding him back. **_

"_**What have you done with him?"**_

_**The Man wreathed in a hood of shadow took a step back, caught off guard by the ferocity of his prisoner. He gathered himself quickly and smiled, crooked teeth flashing in the orange glare of the flame.**_

"_**That is none of your concern, Master Dwarf. I may have killed him…." His captor paused, and Fili's heart sank within him before the Man continued, "… Or he may yet be alive. You will never know."**_

"_**Where … Is… My… Brother?" His question was a threat, each word dripping with venom.**_

_**The Man only smiled. "Until the morrow, Master Dwarf. Perhaps your Uncle would be willing to surrender a few precious gems for the life of his sister's son. … Then again, his avarice does appear to speak louder than his heart."**_

"_**When Thorin finds you, he will – "**_

_**The Man threw his head back and barked in laughter. He wiped a mock tear from his eye and shook his head, his features shrouded in gloom. **_

"_**If your King considers you worth his time and effort to negotiate, it shall be on **_**my**_** terms. I do not have the impression that his mind shall be easily swayed. Take comfort, Master Dwarf; you shall remain here a while yet. Please," he added in a distortedly kind tone, "Do make yourself at home."**_

_**A dark chuckle filled the cell and the caped Man lurched out the door, taking the light with him.**_

* * *

_He huddled in the corner, flinching at the clang of every door, every raised voice that drew near his prison cell. Rats scurried under the bench and Kili drew in a sharp breath, tucking his arms securely around him and vainly attempting to track the large rodents in the dark. He curled up tighter on the short metal table, the only shelter between him and the horrors below. Memories of sharp teeth nipping at his fingers and scrabbling claws tearing at his hair filled him with a sense of horrific repulsion and he shifted instinctively to tuck his hands under his coat. He had learned not to remain still for too long._

_Fire consumed his arm and Kili whimpered, cradling the wounded limb to his chest and blindly searching for the one who could comfort all hurts. Only the creaking of his cell door greeted him and he unconsciously shivered when the Shadow entered. One lone candle was set on a high shelf, wraiths and phantoms dancing along the walls paying homage to the glimmer of light. _

_He could not see the Shadow's face, and perhaps that was what made the encounter all the more frightening; the Unknown._

"_Relax. I am not here to torment you... not yet, at least."_

_Chilling words, gentility and cruelty mingled together. A silent form slipped past the Shadow and approached Kili, and he shrunk away at the sight of the box within the figure's hands._

"_Sit still and cooperate; it is merely a healer."_

_He began to struggle, kicking at the beastly creature's hands and yearning to hide himself in the dark. The Shadow stepped forward and snatched Kili's manacled wrist in a steel grip, holding him fast while the healer sliced his gauntlet away from the festering wound in the underside of his forearm. A whimper escaped Kili as the torn flesh was probed and he yanked against the Shadow's grip. A hiss escaped his captor and he sharply backhanded the Dwarf, slamming Kili's head against the stone and silencing him with a muted whimper. _

_The walls spun in Kili's vision and he could do nothing as the healer brushed his fingers lightly over the wound, locating the razor edge of an arrowhead buried deeply inside. Kili stiffened and drew back at the flash of blazing pain, shouting as the healer pressed his thumbs deeply against both sides of the intrusion. Putrid yellow liquid bubbled out of the wound and the Shadow turned away in disgust, increasing the pressure of his grip on Kili's arm until the Dwarf cried out from the crippling hold._

_The anguish of the spider's poison in Mirkwood was the closest Kili could compare to the fire that erupted in his arm as the healer drew forth a razor thin blade and lanced it across the wound. Blood and pus pooled from the incision and the healer pulled the gaping edges of the wound apart, allowing the fluids to run freely. Screaming from the agony Kili writhed against the Shadow's grasp, kicking out and him and eliciting a grunt of pain. _

_With a vile curse his captor yanked Kili to a seated position and wrapped an arm around his neck, choking him into submission. Without a glint of compassion the healer shifted his knee to trap Kili's free hand against the cold stone of the bench, rendering him almost completely immobile. Futilely Kili lashed out with his feet once more, only for the Shadow's grip to tighten until black dots swam in his vision from lack of air._

_"Get it over with!" the Shadow growled, fighting to hold the convulsing Dwarf still as well as restrain his wounded arm._

_With swift and cruel efficiency the healer dug his fingers into the wound, grasping the jagged end of the arrow and tearing it free of flesh and muscle. Blackness encased Kili's vision and the following moments were lost from his comprehension. He remembered screams and fire and blackness, and then snuffling cries which could not be his own. Consciousness returned in time to recognize a cool ointment being slathered on the gaping hole, a clean bandage wound securely around his forearm before his captors at last released him._

_"Crude, but effective," the Shadow commented with calm intrigue. "Would you not agree?" He had risen to his feet in the time lost from Kili's memory, and now observed with hawk-like interest as the Dwarf gasped for each painful breath. _

"_Why?" was the only question Kili could force past tremulous lips as he watched, detached, as the healer slunk away. Why are you doing this? What have I done to you?_

"_What have you done?" came the Shadow's response. He seemed shocked and bitter at the question, before he hastily composed himself. "You think you deserve any less? You are only a bargaining chip; I keep you alive to serve my purposes. If your Uncle deems you worthless, you will be disposed of. Until then…" He smiled, grim and ruthless. "Until then, sleep while you can. The rats are not choosy about whom they spend their time with; you will not be lacking in company."_

_The Shadow snorted in laughter and reclaimed the candle, preparing to leave._

"_Wait!" Kili called, struggling to rise despite the agony that stabbed through his arm to the bone. "My… my brother… is he here?"_

_The Shadow turned, his smile fading into a semblance of pity. "Did you not know, then? …. Ah."_

_He returned the candle to its place and leaned against the wall, regarding his prisoner with a sympathy that left Kili's skin crawling. _

"_Your brother was in my way. He tried to rescue you, you know. I only needed one of you to accomplish my purposes, and you were less of a handful. I cannot keep the dangerous prisoners, after all; too much chance of escape."_

_He could not breath; could not think. He dared to voice in a whisper, "What did you do?" _

_The Shadow smiled gently; comfortingly. "I had to dispose of him, of course; he would not stop following after you. So I gutted him. Like a fish. Entrails everywhere… the light dying in his eyes… it was rather gruesome, actually; I would rather not go into details."_

"_No…." Kili whispered the word, and then he leaped to his feet, stumbling over the chains and falling to the floor as a scream of anguish escaped him. His eyes fixated on the Shadow and hatred emanated from his gaze, and he knew that were his hands free he would have killed the murderer without a matter of conscience._

_The Shadow only smiled benignly at his captive's furious response. "You act as though I have committed a heinous crime. Ah, but can you not see, Master Dwarf? I did nothing. You killed your brother."_

_His struggles ceased at once and he looked to the Shadow in horror. The Shadow shook his head and sighed in compassion._

"_If you had not left the safety of your precious little Mountain and allowed yourself to be snatched away, he would not have followed after you and given chase. He would yet be safe in his fortress, planning his next move with your dear Uncle. Try to wrap your pitiful little mind around this …. If you had not allowed yourself to be endangered, he would still be alive."_

_The words sunk deep, more sharp and cruel than a barbed arrow ripping into his heart. _

"_No… no, I didn't… He was alive! I saw him!"_

"_He __**was **__alive," the Shadow conceded, "Until he grew to be too much of a bother. He could have escaped on his own; he had the chance. In the end he could not leave __**you**__."_

_The Shadow shook his head, judgment and derision in his bearing. "What shall your throneless "king" think of you now? Do you think he would deliver his treasure for the wretched life of a murderer? For the sake of one who would take it upon himself to kill his own brother?"_

"_It's not true," Kili whispered, hope flickering like the dying candle yearning for its last breath. "I didn't kill him."_

_The Shadow did not answer. He took the candle from its stand and strode from the cell, the light extinguishing in a hopeless breath as a gust of wind snuffed the life from it._

* * *

_**Hours or even days might have passed since the Man had taunted him with the unknown fate of his brother. Fili's wrists now felt like slabs of raw meat, blood trickling down his hands from his frenzied struggling. He yanked feebly against the unrelenting iron chain, giving a muted cry of frustration when it clanked taut and refused to budge. **_

_**Sinking his head into his hands, he grasped handfuls of his hair and tried desperately not to think of how Kili would react in this dank place. Had he also been captured and trapped in this eternal darkness? Was he frightened of the unseen shadows, of the claustrophobic nightmare in a prison which devoured all light and buried him alone with only his own thoughts for comfort? Kili had always been antsy in the dark. When Thorin had refused them a fire in the cave above the Goblin Caverns, Kili had done everything he could to disguise his apprehension, but in the end he had refused to leave Fili's side, keeping close to his big brother and even clutching the fabric of Fili's coat as he fell asleep as though to assure himself he would not vanish in the dark. They had all been on edge by that time; the stone giants had given them all reason to fear separation.**_

_**Now Kili was alone, and Fili did not dare consider the thought that he might have not be afraid after all. No Dwarf had reason to fear when they were ...**_

_**He could not even form the thought. Squeezing his eyes shut, Fili pressed his forehead against his upraised fists and willed away the images of the blood streaming down Kili's arm from a blue-fletched arrow, his little brother's face pasty white and strained with agony behind the hand clapped over his mouth. Similar memories struck him of a more horrific wound, fifteen years before, when a dream that was too real had seemingly torn his brother away. Fili shuddered and bit down on his knuckles, unable to bear the terrible thought. He could not stand the uncertainty of not knowing whether his brother was alive, yet he feared the answer even more. **_

_**He could not lose him again.**_

_**Keys rattled in the lock, and Fili's head shot up as the door slowly creaked open. A flicker of light shot into being as the caped Man entered the room. He paused on the threshold and examined the door critically sighing as though it had done him a personal insult. **_

_**"Typical. One of these days I shall have to oil those hinges. This place is starting to sound like a dungeon."**_

_**Fili bared his teeth, ignoring the callous humor and seething at the Man's grating, light-hearted tone. "Where is my brother?" he demanded, his voice terse as he glared at his captor.**_

_**Setting the candle on its stand, the Man folded his arms and leaned against the wall. He was silent for a time, and for a moment Fili understood the anxiety of the hare under the watchful gaze of a fox. Sounding bored with his musings, the Man shrugged and responded,**_

_**"He might be here... or he may be - "**_

_**"Enough of your riddles!" Fili shouted, yanking against the chains and ignoring the spearing pain that ran up his arms as the muscles were strained once more. "Tell me where he is!"**_

_**The Man regarded him dispassionately and then proceeded to examine his nails with care. "I did not kill him..." he stated passively.**_

_**Fili allowed himself to slump marginally in relief, before the next words smote him like an icy fist.**_

_**"... But that does not mean I allowed him to live."**_

_**Cold fear filtered to rage, and with a howl of rage Fili lunged at the cloaked Man. Once more caught off guard by the fury of the onslaught, the Man threw up his arm and backed off a pace before he remembered that the chains held the Dwarf securely to the wall. He hid his apprehension under a chuckle and retrieved the candle, sneering at Fili's attempts before intentionally blowing out the light. **_

_**"Until the morrow, Master Dwarf," he said, the fabric of his cloak rustling around him as he gave a mocking bow. "Pray that your Uncle has the good sense to agree with my terms."**_

_**With a screeching groan the door clanged shut, and Fili was once more left alone in the dark. His shoulders dropped and he rested his forehead against his palms, breaking off a sob as he thought about his brother. His Kili. The cheeky, impertinent little rascal he had promised to protect. He had vowed nothing would befall his brother on their journey. The dreams which had haunted him for fifteen years were too vivid; he could not survive watching his brother die in reality. **_

_**"Kili," Fili moaned, burying his face in his hands. He clutched at thick, golden braids and pulled until tears of pain sprang to his eyes, but the yanking at his scalp could not match the anguish he felt inside. It consumed him; the endless worries, the desperation of **_**not knowing**_** whether or not his brother lived. He could not stand it any longer!**_

_**"I hate you!" he whispered to the darkness, willing the cloaked Man to re-enter and come close enough that Fili could grasp his throat and strangle the answers from him. If he had killed his brother... **_

_**If Kili was dead, Fili knew he could not go on a second time. Not alone. Not like in**_ **those_ nightmares._**

_**As he curled into a dejected heap on the cold slab of stone, the edge of a misshapen wing jabbed into Fili's side. He froze and swallowed convulsively, reaching slowly to pull out the half-finished carving of an eagle. He had been working on it for Kili while they had been cooped in the Mountain... he had thought it would be finished by the time Thorin decided to negotiate with the men of Laketown.**_

_**Bitter tears stung Fili's eyes and he clutched the carving until a sharp edge of the wing pierced his hand. "Kili, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he whispered, his cries for forgiveness lost in the unrelenting darkness. "I wouldn't ... If I had known..."**_

**I would have stopped you before you ran out of the Mountain. I would have stepped between you and Thorin when the shouting began. I would have asked you to hold out one more day; endure the darkness and the riddling tension and put up with Uncle's madness until peace could be negotiated. I would have held you tighter all that night; thanked the gods that you were still at my side; told you ridiculous stories until your laughter rang throughout the cave and even Thorin could no longer hold back a smile.**

**I would have protected you.**

**I would never have let you go, if only I had known what would happen.**

_**Now he was too late, and once more it was Kili who was paying the price. Horrid memories assailed him; of a special day morphed into disaster, when his brother almost died in his arms in the flooded trench of a sunken road. He had held his brother close... yearned to see him take a single breath...**_

_**A choked cry was wrenched from the depths of Fili's soul and he clutched the eagle close to his heart, broken whispers spilling from his lips as the worst scenarios flashed before his eyes.**_

_**"Please, Kili, hold on!" he pleaded in a breathless voice. "Do not go without me, little brother! I could not stand to be alone again!"**_

* * *

_Someone had left food and water while he slept. It was decent fare... what the rats had not eaten, at least. Kili thought he recognized a few green things, along with a gnawed slab of meat and a hunk of bread that had been torn nearly to pieces. They were hoping to keep him alive, anticipating that Thorin might find it in his heart to forgive the killer who had bereaved him of his eldest nephew. Disheartened, Kili plucked at the slab of meat with two fingers before leaving it to the rats to finish. He hid his head in the shelter of his arms, pretending for a moment that he was back in the caves in the Misty Mountains, rainwater trickling outside while Fili rattled off the most outrageous tales to keep his mind off the enclosing darkness._

_'Fili...'_

_He could not stop the sob that broke free, and suddenly he was crying, hot tears soaking his sleeves as he buried his face in his arms and sobbed for the mistake he could never take back. The details were so clear in his mind. Why had he not taken a moment to __**think**__ as Fili had always warned him? Why had he been so __**stupid**__?_

_'I'm sorry, Fili! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!'_

_Useless apologies would not bring his brother back. Kili sank his teeth into his sleeves and released a muffled wail as he realized that he had lost his brother forever. The image of Fili's blood spilling onto the ground, his hands clasped around his sides as his blue eyes faded and the light in them died..._

_'I can't, I can't! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!'_

_Why had he chosen that day to argue with Thorin? Why did he have to care whether or not his Uncle succumbed to the gold madness? It all would have been over as soon as Gandalf returned and forced him to see reason. Why had he allowed himself to become so angry? How could have been so __**stupid**__ to think he could take Thorin on and survive the verbal beating which ensued?_

_Kili tried to block the angry words from his mind, hurt lancing through him as he remembered the hatred in Thorin's empty, greed driven eyes. Thorin had ordered him to leave ... right then and there. Called him a child. Disowned him before the entire company. __**Why?**__ Balin had said that a sickness had overtaken Thror, causing him to lead his entire army to their deaths just for the sake of a few valued trinkets, but Kili had never imagined any form of madness could be so deadly; so cruel. _

_**But Thorin was right in the end...**_

_That was the last, deadly blow. Kili __**had **__reacted as a child. He had cursed Thorin and ran, tears blinding his vision as he tried so desperately to blink them away before they streamed down his face and betrayed him. Fili had called after him and Kili had run faster, wanting just this once to be alone._

_He had never regretted anything so deeply._

_He was too caught up in the waves of despair slicing him apart that he did not notice the baying of a hound before the 'thip' of an arrow was followed by the burning agony in his arm. He had screamed against his will and heard Fili cry out his name, before an arm much longer than his own wrapped around his throat and a hand tightened over his mouth until he thought his teeth would crack from the force. He remembered Fili's shout, then a large hand wrenching on the arrow in his arm until he thought he would die from the pain... then blackness._

_Then he had learned that he was suddenly alone, and that he had caused the death of his older brother._

_If his injuries did not kill him, Kili knew that he would die from this inner wound; this forsaken __**loss**__ that tore him apart and stamped him into the dust as the words echoed relentlessly ... 'Guilty... Murdurer... He would be alive if not for you.'_

_He did not realize he was screaming until the door slammed open and a violent curse spewed from the one who entered. The world spun in a haze of pain, and it was not until the Shadow's hands wrenched him upright and pressed him against the back wall that Kili realized he had been bashing his head against the floor in an attempt to escape the unforgiving __**agony**__ he felt inside. He sobbed breathlessly and fought to push the Shadow away, scrabbling madly at his sleeves and tearing the stitches in his arm as he sought any form of pain to distract him from the horror building up inside._

_He had killed his brother. His Fili. The most important person in his life. The one who had given __**everything**__ to protect him. He had killed him as certainly as if he had driven a blade through Fili's heart. _

_There was blood all over his hands. In his eyes it was Fili's blood, staining his fingers red and testifying his guilt. He had killed him... Fili was gone... his Fili... dead... forever... never coming back again... his fault..._

_Kili screamed in anguish, his voice cracking and breaking as he brought his head forward and slammed it against the Shadow's forehead. Blackness sparked his vision and he welcomed it. Anything to escape this pain. _

_Yowling in aggravation, the Shadow grasped a handful of Kili's hair and thunked his head back, realizing too late that violence would not calm the outburst. With a shouted order at the healer the Shadow grabbed the pot of water that had been brought to wash Kili's wounds and dumped the contents over the hysterical Dwarf. For an instant Kili blinked owlishly, startled by the sudden dousing. Tears filled his eyes and began to spill down his cheeks, but before he could lose himself again the Shadow grasped his face in both hands and shook him upright._

_"Is this what you think you deserve for your brother's death?" he said heatedly, neither compassion nor understanding in his steely bronze gaze. "You think you can kill yourself and escape it all? You think that you can destroy yourself now and be welcomed after what you did to him? You do not even deserve to __**die**__, Kili."_

_Bewildered tears trickled down Kili's cheeks and he shook his head. "I don't ... I don't understand," he gasped, lost and forsaken and begging for __**any**__ form of redemption._

_The Shadow sighed and released Kili's face, stepping back and regarding him with disgust. His hood had fallen back, revealing his deformed face, but Kili was too distraught to take notice. With a laborious sigh the Shadow flicked water off his fingers, regarding the Dwarf before him with cool derision._

_"Do you think your punishment would be so merciful as a quick death?" he challenged disdainfully. "Your brother did __**everything**__ to protect you; even to the point where he died saving your worthless, miserable hide, and you think that by slaying yourself you will absolve this shame? You know nothing."_

_His Uncle's very words shot back like a razor thin blade, and Kili swallowed a whimper as Thorin's blazing blue eyes flashed in a contorted memory. Smirking in satisfaction as the words struck home, the Shadow continued,_

_"Your punishment is not in death, Kili. That would be too easy; too painless. It would be a gift you grant yourself, and far more mercy than you deserve. No, Kili, your punishment is __**living**__ with the knowledge of what you have done. You will survive, and you will return to Thorin and know that he despises you. Oh, he will pretend to care - you are the only heir he has left, after all - but he will always look upon you as the one who killed his nephew. You will be nothing more in his eyes than a murderer, and he will not even look upon you as his sister's son. In word only will you be his heir. In truth, he will hate the very sight of you, and you shall know that this is little more than you deserve"_

_If the Shadow had heard every word of Thorin's denouncement, he could not have repeated the hurtful words with greater significance. With a sob Kili sank into himself, curling up helplessly when tears could not ease the torment which rent him apart._

_"Wh-what do I do, then?" he whispered, his eyes flitting about the room in a panic as he choked on his own words. _

_What could he do? He had killed Fili. __**His**__ Fili was dead on account of his foolish mistake. He could not die - the Shadow was right; that would never make up for the sin he had committed against his brother. But what other course was left to him? Thorin would hate him - he already had made that clear even before Kili murdered his eldest - no, his __**only **__nephew. Kili moaned, a tortured, wretched sound. There was no comfort in the Shadow's gaze as he retreated to the door and motioned for the healer to leave. _

_"You will return to your Uncle when it is time. You will bear the judgement he passes on to you, and you will know that it is a kindness compared to what you really deserve. You will live, and you will know that your life was returned to you in exchange for **his**. He was the one who should have lived, and that right was torn from him. This is justice, Kili. This is the only redemption you will ever find... both in this life, and the next."_

_The Shadow wet his fingers and put out the light, and the bars of darkness slammed around Kili once more. This time there was no Fili to hold him close and whisper the evil tidings of night away. His brother walked in the eternal darkness of death, and there was surely no rest for Fili, for he had been murdered at the hand of the one he trusted most._

_The crushing knowledge itself should have destroyed him._

_Kili's hand clenched in his pocket and he sobbed raggedly as his fingers closed around the detailed carving of a wolf. He did not understand why his brother had devoted to carving him a new animal every birthday since the one fifteen years ago, when Keilan had almost destroyed all their lives. When asked, Fili would grow quiet, a far off look in his eyes depicting a lifetime Kili had never witnessed before he shook himself from his daze and made some light-hearted comment to distract his brother. The wolf had been Fili's last piece. He had given it to Kili a few weeks before he left, joking that his brother would likely have enough animals for a small army by the time he reached Uncle Thorin's age. _

_Everything had been all right, then. They had been happy. Fili had been alive, and Kili had been so sure that they would re-take Erabor and slaughter the dragon, returning home with chests full of treasure to delight Mother with..._

_Mom._

_She would despise him for sure. _

_Kili burst into tears, knowing the look of revulsion and anger that would cross_ _D_i_s'__ face before she ordered him out of the house and forbade him to enter her sight again. She would hate him. They all would hate him. Even Ori and Bilbo and Gimli and everyone back home. He would be a disgrace to them, and he would never be welcomed among his family._

_Worst of all, he would no longer have Fili to comfort him when everyone else turned away. _

_In the end, it was that knowledge which caused him to break._

* * *

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Waaah! I'm a horrible person! D'X Someone needs to stun those rabid Muses and put them in jail on humor-detail for the rest of their unkillable lives.

This will get better... surprisingly. It is just ... going to get worse first...

The Review button is down there. Put it to good use and the Muses will update as fast as their exasperated author can type.


	14. Avarice Ch 2: The Shattering

"I'm not crazy." A maniacal, desperate chuckle followed as Keilan brushed a hand through his prematurely graying hair. Wild bronze eyes glowered into the cracked mirror and he trailed his fingers down the imprint in his cheek, all mirth dying in his gaze as he remembered the harsh injustice dealt in the Blue Mountains.

"I'm not crazy," he whispered again.

Hatefully he spat, smashing his fist into the mirror. Glass shattered against his bleeding knuckles, raining down around his feet before he came to his senses and reminded himself of the task at hand. No, he could not give in to his bitterness just yet. There was too much to be done, and he could not allow his fury to overtake him. He had to remain calm. He had to _think_. He had to be crafty - crafty like the fox. Pretty little foxes, tearing the hapless field mice to shreds and leaving the mother to mourn her slain offspring alone...

He was losing track of his thought pattern again. This would _not_ be permitted to continue. Plastering a hand against his cheek, Keilan dragged it across his face and seethed as uneven bone jutted against his fingers. The scars still ached in all manners of weather, reminding him of the sharp crack of stone and metal. They would pay for what they had done. They would _all_ pay. For the humiliation brought against him. For Jag's death. Keilan had never forgotten, and at last he had reached the moment of triumph. Now he would have his due. They would suffer, slowly and bitterly, and they would remember what they had done.

His name would never be forgotten. It would be a curse upon their lips just as Mahal was a blessing. Keilan son of Droad would be remembered forever.

Tapping his fingers against the old scar, Keilan relished the thought. Thorin's nephews would bear the mark of their Uncle's atrocities. He would break the leg of the one, and mar the face of the other. He might even allow Thorin to make the choice of who would be given which scar.

Throwing his head back, Keilan laughed. No, he was not insane. He had planned this for years. His vengeance was meticulous; thought out to the last detail; _perfect_. He would not fail. He _never_ lost.

"Of course you are not crazy," Ralon echoed Keilan's past statement, his drone irksome as he ponderously mashed the herbs to spread across the wounded Dwarf's arm. "You remain as brilliant and clear-minded as in your - "

"I did not hire you to agree with me on every non-sequential subject!" Keilan snapped, fiery bronze eyes searing with disgust. "I hired you for your silence. Did I not make it clear that a severed tongue or a rotting corpse are less desirable manners to ensure this?"

No answer was given. The healer was quick to learn; a quality Keilan was pleased to note. He sighed and dusted the cobwebs from his cloak, berating himself for losing his temper so easily. It was happening far too often for his comfort, and he must remain calm if he intended to carry out his vengeance properly. Years of work had been poured into this final strike: empty, painful years of healing; of sneaking around dear, perfect elder brother's back to speak with the Dwarves of the Iron Hills and learn all there was to know of Thorin and what was most precious to him; of plotting an expedition to the Blue Mountains only to be thwarted at the last moment; of relishing a dream come true when he learned that the very Dwarves he hated with a passion were coming to him instead. Tense hours of preparation; of slipping out before Logan could realize he had disappeared; of blackmailing the right healer to slam a rock against the blond Dwarf's head and help conceal both of Thorin's nephews in the abandoned wine cellar near the docks; of covering his tracks so that _no one_, not even his impeccably reasonable older brother, could find them in the darkness below.

Keilan had worked too hard for this to fail now. He would not be denied his vengeance. One way or another, they would all rue the day they had ever heard his name.

"Six more hours until nightfall," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder and ecstasy at the thought. "Oh, he will not have them returned to him. Not whole. Not the way he remembered."

Six more hours. There was plenty of damage he could cause with one more conversation. Time was on his side now, and he intended to drag out every agonized second for the one who had killed his little brother.

"I told you I would make you regret Jag's death," came the ghosted vow as Keilan wafted his hand over the candle flame. "You should have let me kill you while I had the chance."

* * *

Thorin had known that his mind was slipping from him even as he first laid eyes on the treasure of his forefathers. He could feel the whispers of gold tethering his soul, pulling him into a black sea of greed and despondency none dared traverse. Rivers of color filled the Mountain caverns in heaps of precious gems, and the abundance of mithril had captured his mind and held it fast, trapping him against his will in an insatiable lust for the fulfillment of craftsmanship that nothing else could recreate.

He had loathed and despised the cage doors that slammed around his mind as he gazed on the treasure of Erabor, beating against their golden bars in fury at his entrapment, and yet he could not move himself to take the key and release himself from his prison. Such was the heritage and the downfall of the Dwarven race, and such was Thorin's folly as he found himself falling deeper and deeper into the treacherous labyrinth of his own sickened mind.

Too long he had yearned for the glittering hoards which had been captured by Smaug, and now that the treasure was rightfully in his possession he would give _none_ of it away. The greed of the men of Laketown was outmatched only by his stubborn refusal to part with even the smallest gold coin, and Thorin had prided himself for remaining strong in spite of their petty attempts to besiege the Dwarves in their own mountain.

He had been so caught up in the fog of wealth clouding his mind, that he did not recognize his own voice when he began to shout. Thorin did not know what the argument had been about. Mahal help him, he could not even remember what he had said to cause that look of betrayal to pass over Kili's face before his youngest nephew bolted out of the cave. Fili had not been far behind him, but Thorin had been too caught up in the crushing horror of what he had done to call after his nephews and beg for their forgiveness.

_What had he done? What unforgivable blow had he dealt his sister's youngest son? _

Thorin knew that Kili was still vulnerable; the smallest criticism could either cause him to work harder, or it could be taken as another way in which he would forever be looked on as incompetent. He was sensitive, always held back in the shadow of his older brother's accomplishments. Thorin had recognized this early on and been cautious to separate Fili and Kili's training, ensuring that the leader would not be held back, while the younger would not be pushed beyond what he could handle.

At what point had the challenge against his inheritance become more important to him than the frantic pleading in Kili's eyes when his nephew begged him to consider peaceful terms instead of declaring war against the men of Laketown?

_What heated words crushed your spirit and told you that you were not enough?_

With a moan of despair, Thorin sank his head into his hands as he remembered the stricken anguish in Kili's expression. Dwalin had only looked at Thorin in horror when it was over, refusing to speak. None of the Company had dared pass on the conversation, and Thorin knew he had gone too far.

_You were already fighting to prove yourself among us. Even if struck by madness, how could I have torn you down so cruelly?_

Then the screams had begun, and with a jolt of terror Thorin had known he was too late. Bifur had been trailing after the children; they found him further down the path, a blue-fletched arrow sunken deep into his shoulder. Several feet down the shaft of a second arrow rested in a pool of blood. A crimson tainted rock. One of Fili's discarded swords.

There was no other sign of his nephews.

A madness of another kind had overwhelmed Thorin at that point. Dwalin told him later that he had almost strangled Bard to death, demanding that Fili and Kili be returned to him. Rubbing his bruised throat, the leader had rasped that they were men of honor, and even if they would hold a ransom they would not kidnap children to accomplish their means. Thorin did not remember what he had said after that. Dwalin had dragged him back to the Mountain before they could be accused of shedding the blood of Laketown's king.

For two days Bilbo had searched Laketown, slipping through the jails and cellars in that quiet and unseen manner which had so often left them speechless. Banned from the search thanks to the war they themselves had created, the Dwarves had waited anxiously for news, but the days trickled on and no hope was offered. Fever had claimed Bifur's mind, and words proved beyond his capability. His frantic one-handed signals could not explain what Khuzdul would have permitted. Neither the demand of ransom nor any explanation for the crime had been left, and Thorin did not know if his nephews were even alive.

He did not realize that tears were streaming down his face before a small, unobtrusive presence edged up beside him and a handkerchief was dropped onto his knee. Startled into awareness, Thorin glanced up to see Bilbo shifting from foot to foot, biting on his lip and trying to think of s_omething_ hopeful to reassure everyone's worst fears. Words were futile, however, and with an awkward clear of his throat Bilbo nodded and heavily sat down. He could not comfort them, nor could he rightfully mourn what was not his own, but he could remind them that there was still something that could be done. He could break Thorin free of his guilt long enough to think clearly and plan.

Determination filled him for a moment, before cold reality settled in. What could they plan _for_, when they knew not whether it was for murder or for hostages that Fili and Kili had been taken? If it was for gold and treasure that the men of Laketown fought, they would have bartered Thorin's nephews for a promised share long before now. There was no motive behind the attack; no sign to show who had dealt the blow. They were barred from the city after Thorin's attack against Bard, and there would be no help until Dain and his army arrived. They could only wait now, and pray that the children were still alive.

Visions of Kili's infectious grin and Fili's wise, cheeky shake of the head broke Thorin's heart as he accepted that in the end, nothing they could do might be enough. Kili could die, believing that he was unwanted and forsaken by the only one he could look to for guidance in place of his father. If he was not dead already, Fili would follow soon after, for surely two souls of such closeness could never be separated for long. Thorin could lose them both, and no amount of broken apologies would ever return them from the grave.

The cruelest knife of all, was the knowledge that it would all be his fault.

* * *

_"It will not be long, now. As soon as your Uncle agrees to my terms, you will be free; just as you wished."_

_What did it matter, when his freedom meant that he would never see Fili alive again? He could almost feel his brother's presence, as though even in death he sought to protect his younger brother. It was not Fili who had failed this time, however. Once more Kili's childish stupidity had dragged them into danger, and his brother had paid for it with his life. How could he live with himself, when he knew that he had killed the one who was more precious to him than anything else in the world? How could he give up, when his death would be the final blow to disgrace his brother's memory? _

_He was torn and confused, fading and utterly, irrevocably devastated. There was nothing left for him, yet there was everything remaining of Fili to lose. Images of his brother flitted constantly through Kili's mind, torturing him with smiles tarnished with the empty eyes of a corpse and the sullied blood of one who had long passed from Middle Earth. How long Kili had lain in the darkness weeping, he did not know. There were no more tears for him to cry. Only the heavy, numbing emptiness remained._

_Thus when the door had opened a third time, Kili did not bother to acknowledge the entrance of the Shadow. He knew his condemnation was just and deserved. How much worse could a few words hurt?_

_"You should be grateful that I am returning you to your Uncle. I could be leaving him with no heirs at all. At least this way you can be somewhat __**useful**__ instead of forcing him to find a wife in order to ensure his throne remains in good hands ... well, at least in the hands of his kin. I find it difficult to believe a snot-nosed, half-bred princess could rule at this point."_

_Something in the Shadow's insult shouted that Kili should recognize his tormentor. Lingering memories filtered through his mind, of eyes like shields of molten bronze, mud flooding his mouth and nose, and the sickening despair of shaming his family and his heritage on a day he should have been looking forward to. Then the remnants faded and Kili shook his head, unable to muster the energy to fight back with a retort of his own._

_The Shadow released a pent up sigh, flicking his cape over his shoulder with a grumbled, "You Dwarves get to be so dull after a while. Should have given you to the dog and let the other one watch you scream..."_

_'The Other One...'_

_The reminder of what had happened to Fili was too much for Kili to handle. The thought of his brother's body being ripped apart by wolves instead of entombed with dignity as was deserved caused him to gasp and shudder as renewed tears flooded his gaze._

_'It's not right! It's not right! I'm sorry, Fili! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!'_

_The Shadow took the light away, and Kili was left alone in the dark. Hope was crushed like a handful of ashes in his fist, and he was once more left forsaken and alone._

* * *

_**"He is magnificent, is he not?"**_

_**Fili could not help the shudder that rippled through him as the bays of his nightmares thundered in the close walls of the cell. Snapping and gnashing its saliva coated teeth at its trapped prey, the reddish-brown wolfhound yanked at its tether and whined as it was held back from the succulent two-legged flesh it desired. The caped Man grunted as the powerful dog strained at its leash, nearly pulling his arms from their sockets by sheer force.**_

**_"I would have named him Jag, after the other one, but you know that Jag was never _**_**replaceable. Just like your brother, huh? Unless the Dwarven standards have changed, that is, and you hate him as much as I hate my brother now."**_

_**Even before the Man shrugged his hood back to reveal his face, Fili **_**knew**_**.**_

_**"Keilan!" he hissed, bolting to his feet and dropping with a harsh keen as pain ricocheted up his arms from the abused muscles. **_

_**How he had found them all the way up here, when he was supposed to have been dead or imprisoned long ago, Fili would never know. Only one thought mattered to him.**_

_**"What have you done with him?" Fili roared, yearning all the more to wrap his chains around the man's throat and snap his neck so that the gleeful triumph faded from his expression. "Where is Kili?"**_

_**"Oh, this is too good," Keilan murmured, concealing a grin behind one hand as he backed his dog out and locked it behind the door. "I really do not think I should tell you now... I am not sure what it would do to you."**_

_**Fili collapsed against the bench in horrified silence, the words ringing in his head. "What did you do to him?" he demanded in a hoarse whisper. Fury mingled with terror once more coursed through him, and he argued, "Is this about that despicable **_**dog**_** I killed? Are you that obsessed? It's been fifteen years since you tried to kill us!"**_

_**"Fifteen years without my little brother," Keilan responded with a grim nod. "Fifteen years without my Jag. Have you ever tried to live without your kid brother?"**_

_**A cold chill swept through Fili at the threat. All too well he remembered the games his mind had played with him, inventing a scene where Kili had died and he had been forced to go on without his brother. "Keilan, he had nothing to do with Jag's death," he implored, praying that a calmer approach would save his brother. "If you have any grudges still, take it out on me, not Kili!"**_

_**"Actually, that was the plan," Keilan shrugged matter-of-factly. "I am taking it out on you. You know what they say... a life for a life, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life... Just following the basic principles."**_

_**The blood drained from Fili's face and he fell limp as the words settled in. Breathlessly he asked, "You... what...?" **_

**_Please, do not let it be true. Whatever you are implying, let it not be true._..**

_**"I told you that you would pay for Jag's death. After your Uncle crippled me and I was stuck in this cursed wasteland, I realized there was more to the significance of your action than I cared to note before. After all, you murdered my brother. It was only justice that I do the same."**_

_**Terror too great to name paralyzed Fili. He could not even force the words past his lips, and with a condescending smile Keilan filled in the blanks.**_

_**"Oh, do not worry yourself, Fili - it is Fili, is it not? Kili was the other one - the youngest. Anyways, I made sure it was quick. Threw him to the dog, actually. Ol' Red here was rather starved after the village banned me from feeding him the neighborhood lambs, so he snapped him up pretty quick. You know, crunch of bone, lots of screams, bloody scraps and pieces everywhere... it was over in a few minutes. He hardly suffered in the end. Could have been longer if - "**_

_**The scream of anguish which followed could almost have made Keilan feel sorry for the Dwarf. Almost. He held back, regarding the pitiable scene of grief with antipathy. After all, it was only fair that Jag's murderer should share in his pain.**_

_**At this moment Fili would have done **_**anything**_** to block out the words and banish them from his mind. Abhorrent violent pictures of Kili's death replayed before his eyes, and he could not force them away. His teeth grated until he thought they would break and he kicked out at Keilan, his boot coming just shy of the man's ankle before Keilan casually stepped back a pace. Howling in outrage Fili threw himself against the chains, his cries of fury resounding above the excitable bays of the hound outside the cell. Over and over he wrenched against the chains, blood streaking down his mangled wrists as the clangs of metal echoed the shrieks of denial in his heart. **_

_**"You're lying!" Fili snarled. "He's not dead!"**_

_**Keilan smiled, and a dark, malevolent wrath as Fili never realized he had rose up within him, threatening to overtake his mind and purge all that was good. Kili. Kili was the good. Kili was joy and resilience and his chirruping laugh that proved not all was lost even in the most desperate moments of their young lives. Kili was what had kept him alive; kept him sane; proved that he was not the monster his father had become.**_

_**"He isn't dead!" Fili repeated, his furious denials almost incoherent for his panic. His voice broke in a yowl as his frenzied struggles were stilled by a sudden **_**'crack!'**_** Pain shot through his wrist and he instinctively grabbed at the fractured limb, a reedy gasp escaping him as the stabbing sensation like a white-hot knife escalated over the madness which would have destroyed his mind.**_

_**"I wish that were so," Keilan quipped at length. "It would have been more satisfying to drag him in here now and watch him writhe in agony as you watched. I really should have - Now, do be civilized, Dwarf!"**_

_**Jaws clenched against waves of agony slicing through him, Fili threw his feet out one last time and nearly succeeded in catching his toe against Keilan's leg. In response Keilan clacked his tongue in mock sympathy, serenely backing out the door and offering one final parting blow.**_

_**"I should send the remains to Thorin, I suppose... Do you suppose he will mind if he has only a few handfuls of hair and part of a hand to bury? I am afraid the dog hid all the rest of the bones..."**_

_**Slamming the door behind him, Keilan pressed himself against the hard oak and winced at the howl of despair which echoed. He really did underestimate the fervency with which these Dwarves looked out for one another. It really would have been splendid to trick Thorin as well. To convince him that his nephews were deceased, broken and mangled beyond recognition... Perhaps he should rearrange his plans while he still had time.**_

_**"One task at a time, Keilan," he determined, tracing his fingers down his cheek before clacking his tongue for the dog to follow him. "This is not over yet."**_

_**Curled into a fetal position, his arms wrapped around his knees and his face hidden in the illusion of darkness, Fili hid from the single candle that had been left glimmering on the wall.**_

_**"Kili... my Kili..." he moaned, sobs wracking through him at the picture of his brother's terrified face before the ferocious hound tore him apart. Fili rocked in horror, untangling himself long enough to retch as the carnage replayed before his mind. His brother... his little brother... his Kili...**_

_**"Kili, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He was babbling, crying like a baby with great tears flooding down his cheeks, and he did not care. "I should have ... I ... I didn't mean... I'm so sorry!"**_

_**The blackness was gone, and how desperately he wanted it back. In the darkness he could hide; pretend to disappear; believe that he would never have to face Thorin and tell him what had happened to Kili. And Mother... it would surely break her heart.**_

_**Fili hoped they would hate him for allowing his little brother to die. He welcomed their anger. It was nothing against the torment slamming down on his heart, killing him with each successive battering as the memories assailed him one by one. Little Kili the first time Fili held him after his brother was born; his brother trying to lift a sword and falling backwards in perfect timing to hit a tray of cookies and land one neatly in Thorin's hand; tears rolling down Kili's cheeks after he was teased, and the strength of his tiny arms as he clung to his brother's neck; tree-climbing lessons in an apple grove, when Kili wriggled his way to the top of a sapling and screamed blue murder when it bent nearly to the ground and he was too afraid to let go; Kili snuggling his favorite cat, burying his face deeply in her fur and falling asleep with a look so innocent and pure that Fili vowed he would never let **_**anything**_** happen to his brother; the hurt in an older Kili's gaze as he stomped upstairs after Fili and Thorin arrived home too late for his birthday for the second year in a row; the unconditional love and forgiveness in his eyes when Fili tried to offer him a new fiddle to make up for his negligence; the ashen, deathly look of Kili's face when he lay helpless in the road, beaten bloody and tied to a cursed staff; the joy when he reached out for his brother's hand, not even caring if it was Fili's fault that he had been left in the road in the first place; the wonder he expressed as he ran his hand along his new bow... a similar appreciation which he displayed for each of Fili's later carvings.**_

_**The worst memory was the depiction of Kili's slack features and empty eyes, the blood from an arrow wound soaking the material beneath Fili's hand, before the nightmare ended and Fili awoke to find his brother slouched in a chair; wonderfully, unmistakably alive and well.**_

_**Surely this was a dream. Surely he would awaken and find Kili lazying around, tapping his foot and whistling an off-key tune as he waited for his brother to stop fidgeting in his sleep and wake up already.**_

_**The anguish which lanced through Fili denied him this one small gift. He buried his face in his knees and sobbed his heartache, digging his fingers into his fractured wrist and waiting for the darkness to wink out so that he could awaken back in the Lonely Mountain with Thorin pacing in agitation and Kili looking ready to throw a fit of panic. The pain did not vanish, and the perfect darkness was held back by the light of a solitary candle.**_

_**'Mahal, what will I tell them?'**_

_**Kili was dead. He was gone, and Fili had nothing left to hold on to. In the horrid replay of a nightmare he had escaped for fifteen years, he was unbearably alone.**_


End file.
